


It Was A Wicked Thought

by Ramoth666



Category: RE:8, Resident Evil: Village
Genre: A lotta kinks, Alcina just needs love, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Heavy Angst, Heavy BDSM (eventually), Height difference, I'm in love with Lady D, I'm so sorry for this horrid thing, Mommy Kink, Non-binary Reader - Freeform, Other, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Reader has female sex organs- so- yeah, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Tears, Threats of Violence, Vampires, character x reader, female genitals, reader is a maid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29303574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramoth666/pseuds/Ramoth666
Summary: It was a wicked thought- you knew that.---------You've been a maid in the great Castle of Dimitrescu for an entire year, only managing to meet the Lady of the house once. On the anniversary of your employment, you make a quick decision to save the life of another- and immediately flip your own upside-down.
Relationships: Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader, Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil) & Reader, Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil) & You, Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil)/Reader, Lady Dimitrescu x You
Comments: 55
Kudos: 424





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I DELETED ALL OF MY OTHER CONTENT AND NOW ONLY CARE ABOUT THIS AAAHHHH. Anyway, I've never finished a fic before but am dead-set on finishing this one. I thrive off of good feedback but I'll try my best to get chapters out when I can. I am, after all, in love with Lady Alcina Dimitrescu and therefore, must complete a fic that involves her. I also might post one-shots here and there of little scenarios in my head so look out for those too! Moving on: Please try to enjoy the mediocre writing of this slow burn relationship. I just got back into writing recently and hope it's ok. Let me know what you think :D - Em
> 
> (All mistakes are mine- I didn't revise in this chapter). 
> 
> Also can't believe this first chapter is over 6K words- I've never written a chapter this long (the others will probably be longer though let's be honest).

It had been a full year of serving. Cleaning. Washing, bathing, obeying. Pouring wine and hiding in the shadows as not to be noticed. Only the favorites were noticed. You didn’t want to be a favorite. You didn’t want to be special- at least not to the three main residences of the household. The sisters could be cruel and ruthless on their bad days, going as far as to cut off fingers or draw so much blood that the victim was as good as dead. And on their good days, they teased and flirted and threatened sweetly by pressing knives to butler’s throats and telling them to shine their shoes. 

But your luck was immeasurable when it came to avoiding their attention. You kept your head down, eyes closed, movements soft and slow so they barely noticed you were there and miraculously, it had worked. For such powerful beings, it was a wonder how they never spared a glance at you. Spending hours in the castle library had given you the chance to do some research, although it was not difficult to spot what they were. Vampires. But in the back of your head, you knew they were much more than that- a sort of species that wasn’t like the ones seen in the movies. They drank blood of course but it was often mixed with wine, per the Lady’s demand, and their actions- the bugs of the sisters and the… height… of the Lady- it was too odd. Too not normal to simply be regularly vampiric. Some searches through old tomes (which had surprised you at the time) revealed that there were many different species of vampire and that your masters fit the description of a species spanning back to before time itself. They were ancient. Immortal. Dangerous. Just a few other reasons as to why you hid within the shadows.

Some of the other house workers- maids and butlers alike- got along and spoke softly in the kitchens and halls. They were all aware of those who lived permanently in the castle- just as you were aware of how quick some of the more talkative ones disappeared. Gossip wasn’t forbidden in the residence but never would you take part in their snickering or fearful accusations- getting involved would only result in harm. Or death. Of course it wasn’t a definite punishment, but you had a feeling that the disappearances of other employees weren’t simply because they decided to take their leave. You didn’t really know if you could leave. The books didn’t say anything about mind reading, but you tried to keep your thoughts in check anyway- as only in the dead of night did you think of potentially running- escaping. Though at the same time, you knew that if push came to shove- you wouldn’t be able to do it. Only once had you even gotten close. 

On a Saturday evening when the sisters were busy with a new capture in one of the sitting rooms, using the poor boy for their sadistic fantasies, you were in the kitchens. Dishes was a surprisingly soothing task for you- drawing soapy circles over white and gold plates and ignoring the red stains before drying them with care. Most of the other servants had headed off to bed, desperate to escape the hours of the day before starting another one, but you were still finishing your last task and even then- you didn’t really want to turn in to the quarters. The reasoning behind that hesitation was something you’d never be able to share- for staying awake gave you a better chance of seeing _her_.

The Lady went out sporadically, sometimes returning when the sun was already awake and past the clouds, and sometimes only coming back a few days later. You rarely caught a glimpse of her- only catching the sight of lavish dresses disappearing behind corners, leftover empty glasses of wine, and sometimes- the faintest sound of tall heels clicking against the various marble floors of certain rooms within the castle. The only time you had seen her though was also on that night in the kitchens- luck found in your hesitation to sleep had finally shown the desired results. You were curious, naturally, and your wish had soon been granted. 

Sliding the last crystal drinking glass into place between the others, you straightened them out a bit before closing the cabinet and standing back on your heels. Having to rise on your toes was a bit embarrassing, but rarely anyone but your fellow workers walked into the kitchens- the sisters felt they were too above something as simple as taking a stroll through the primary work place of their servants. But, to be fair, you had never seen the Lady enter either. 

After folding your dish towel then and sliding it in the space between the handle bar of the oven and the oven itself, you reached around to untie the apron from your back. It was cold in the kitchen that evening- someone had blown the fire out earlier and you didn’t feel the need to rekindle the flame. The torches on the walls and lit candles on different surfaces provided enough light as you did a quick check of the kitchen again before leaving, blowing out the candles as you went. On one side of the large room were two big doors, much like that of the ones leading to the courtyard- but they were less ornate and less cared for. It was the entrance to the kitchens, leading into the snowy world outside and thus creating a draft which swung beneath the wood and into the room beyond. There wasn’t much out there except for a well-worn path leading around the side of the castle, the foliage strong and thick leading into the woods beyond. You didn’t open the doors often but after one night of hearing a faint scratching coming from outside of the kitchens, you hesitantly peered through the crack between them to see a flash of ginger fur against the moonlight. You fed the kitten- small meows had left its cold lips and if the emaciated body was anything to go by, it had been trying to survive in the forest for much longer than it could. While watching it chew from a small dish of leftover meat by the door’s threshold, you wondered for just a moment if the kitten had at one point belonged to the Lady- but that thought was soon dismissed. It had probably run from one of the village houses and found itself up the winding path to the castle on the steep hill. 

It was in that instance too where you found that the moon was much more beautiful than you had ever thought it was before. There was a spot right outside the kitchen's entrance, high in the dark midnight sky that revealed two twisting trees. The branches spanned into the night before curling around each other for two turns and then breaking off to the left and right- then smaller branches sprouted from those and curved just a bit in the middle. It looked almost exactly like a broken up heart, separated and maybe never together in the first place- and right in the middle was the moon. Huge and bright and detailed and glorious. It shed an enormous amount of light on the kitchens that night, sparkling off of the matted ginger and white fur of the kitten. 

So ever since then, your kitchen duties became more frequent toward the end of the evening and you had decided to open the doors a lot more in hopes to see the kitten again. She did come back over the course of the year, scratching and meowing until you caved again and again and gave her some more food, along with a good scratch and dishes of water and milk. She ate and drank in your company before scampering off somewhere. You would have taken her in awhile ago and kept good care of her but there was no way the sisters and your Lady would ever accept an animal running around- even if you did confine her to the maid’s quarters. 

“Mrrooww~” 

And there she was again- outside of the door and pawing at the wood. You smiled softly to yourself before gripping the metal handle and slowly pulling it open, careful not to make a lot of noise. The door gave easily, pulling the other one with it- you caught it swiftly with your left hand before letting them both fall gently against the wall. Immediately, the kitchen was bathed in moonlight. It shone against the pots hanging from their spots above the stove and cabinets and shimmered on the silver and gold of the candelabras and expensive finery. The flames in the kitchen had all been blown out by your lips, and there framed in the moon’s light, was the kitten. Well- cat, now. She had grown up outside of the castle just as you had inside. 

With wide green eyes peering up at you, she meowed again and reached forward to tap her paw in front of your feet. It felt a bit strange at times to wear a maid's outfit when the cold was right outside. In fact, it was the typical style of dress as well- black and white with ruffles on the hems of the sleeves and skirt while a black laced ribbon was tied into a bow at the neck between the flaps of the white collar. Although the skirt hung right below your knees, hiding the white stockings that led into small-heeled black Mary Jane style shoes. Old-school- sort of- and even the butlers wore black and white suits as well, but with just the vest on top. The wind ruffled the skirt a bit, drawing a shiver from your body as you let out a sigh and placed your hands on your hips- the cat still stared up at you. 

“What am I going to do with you?” came your mutter before you went to retrieve a piece of meat from one of the fridges to slide onto a dish. You kept a small baby blue colored one toward the back of one of the bowl cupboards and quickly slid it out to prepare, along with two wider ones for water and milk. 

The snow had fallen heavier that day and you weren’t keen on seeing the poor animal starve to death. 

“Alright alright,” you said gently as she walked in a small circle in front of your legs, tail swishing just a bit against the dark shoes. 

After placing her dishes down and standing back, you peered up at the moon. It was in the shape of a crescent that night but was just as bright as the first time you saw it. Perhaps it was even bigger- the details were startlingly clear as you could see the little craters and dips embedded in the rock. So close yet so far away. It would be a wonder to touch it, to hold it in your palm and admire it up close. Maybe if you just- if you just stepped out of that door and ran down the quick back path to the village, you’d be free. Maybe then you could see the moon up-close. Enroll in one of those programs and go to space with a few other people- see the beauty of Earth from afar. A soft sigh left your lips. 

“How wonderful…” you breathed. 

And without much thought, your Mary Jane shoes were crunching on the frost and propelling you forward. There was a little mountain of snow on the other side of the path, leading up to a small peak that overlooked the forest and land below- green foliage framed a clearer part of the mound and soon enough, you found yourself filling that spot. Right hand gripping the thin bark of one of the trees, you pushed one foot forward. And looking up, you gasped.

It was beautiful. Stunning. The moon shone through the clouds and cast rays of silver light on the village below, and their fiery lantern lights could be seen through the light curtain of fog. And the scenery- the green and white of the land and trees beyond the people in the village was glorious. It felt surreal with the wind rushing through your hair, ruffling your skirt further and causing the hairs on your arms to stand to attention. Everything else was silent, everything else was calm and sweet and the slow numbing of your toes hidden in your shoes wasn’t even enough to break your staring contest with the moon and the land she was blessing. The cat licking loudly at her milk behind you, occasionally letting out a pleased meow, was not enough to draw your attention away from the painted landscape before you. In that moment, with your eyes reflecting the heavy shine of the moon’s smile, it felt as if nothing could touch you. The dark woods felt frightening no longer- instead, it held a story. One you so desperately wished to explore under the gaze of the moon. Glancing down again, you watched a few more lights in the village flick to life- bright and full of warmth against winter’s hand. Oh what a dream it would be to live in a place like that.

To live with a family. In a home. With little lanterns of your own to light and little cats you could take in and care for- a comforting space all to yourself. You could decorate it and fill it with little notes written in your free time, and you could work around the village with the others- perhaps baking, perhaps sewing, perhaps teaching the small children how to read. A smile had fixed itself over your face at that point, bright and hopeful. Yes- if you could take a few more steps and wrap the cat up in your arms before running toward the inviting lights below- maybe then you’d have the chance to live within that comfort. That warmth. The only feeling of warmth you found in the castle was beside the fireplaces, torches, and candles- otherwise, all else was cold. But the village was smart, you had overheard news of the recent advancements they possessed- such as heating that didn’t immediately involve lighting a flame and hovering over it for warmth. A part of you wished to explore that as well. And you could. You really could! If only you took a leap of faith and placed another step forward- if only you walked just a bit closer to that small hidden path in the snow…

**BANG!**

“Yeeoww!” 

Your entire body jumped with the sudden assault of noise, your muscles tensing in crazed fear. The soft illusion of your day-dreaming was interrupted by intense realization. There was no way to escape the castle. There was no way to take that other step forward. Not as long as sounds like that followed you from place to place. Without notice, your body froze- too paralyzed with sudden fear to move at all. Even your breath had gotten lodged in your throat. The only sound that filled the air was the soft faint footsteps of the cat bounding off into the snow- too startled to bother inspecting the sound. And within the next moment, all was quiet. You were too nervous to breathe, your fingers had begun digging into the bark on your right and your other hand curled into a fist while clutching the fabric of your skirt. Heartbeat in ear and mind suddenly alert with the need to flee, a desperate thought fluttered through your conscious- a hopeful plea that whomever had opened the kitchen door was just another maid who had perhaps forgotten her book or apron. But deep down, in the stranger parts of your mind, you knew that that wasn’t the case. You knew it was someone else. You knew she had returned from her trip. 

“Hmm… it’s not often I see a stray mouse scampering around my castle.” The voice was heavenly. Smooth. The hum that broke the silence vibrated with superiority and the charming tone that followed felt like velvet put to speech. You swallowed. You rarely heard her speak. 

In fact, you didn’t really know what to do. You weren’t one of the important ones- you weren’t a favorite and you weren’t special. You didn’t serve the Lady, hell you didn’t even really serve her daughters- you just served the house itself. You were the one who flew between the shadows, head down and eyes vigilant but unseeing. How were you to speak to her? What were you to say?- especially when caught in such a compromising position? You swallowed again before loosening your grip on the tree and turning around, hesitant and slow. Clasping your hands behind your back in a scramble for some form of maturity, you bent low at the waist- almost at a full ninety degree angle- before straightening and keeping your head down. 

“My lady,” came your soft reply- almost whispered but not quite. That was the title you heard others give her. 

No reply came after that. It was silent- just as it had been before. For a moment, your mind briefly questioned if she had walked away, but that wasn’t possible. She hadn’t moved, there had been no sound- and as far as you knew, she didn’t possess the same bug-ish disappearing act as her daughters. So you just waited. And waited. And eventually the cold was seeping into your clothing and causing a harsh shiver to run through you. Were you truly waiting on nothing? Perhaps the voice and noise had been part of your imagination- maybe you were sleep deprived- maybe you were being paranoid. 

‘ _There’s only one way to find out_ ’ came your mind’s reply. And it wasn’t wrong. 

With great trepidation, you slowly craned your neck, eyes searching through the steady half-moon-lit kitchens for a sign of life. And there- standing in the middle of the room, was the Lady herself. The glow of natural light only reached the middle of her dress, curving in an arc that revealed flawless white fabric. And the only other part of her you could see, besides the faintest silhouette, were the eyes. Golden, spiraling eyes that reminded you of the very center of a flame- they pierced you with a cold knowledge. An intelligence. An accusation. She knew what you were thinking- you didn’t know how she knew- but she knew. And those eyes, unblinking but admittedly curious, were still locked onto your shivering form. What were you to do? 

“What are you doing out of bed, mouse? Was it the need to escape, or the draw of the cat?” Her tone came again, though that time it was teasing. Prodding. 

“I- it was the moon, my lady,” you decided to answer instead, still not managing to look away from those eyes. They didn’t look away from you either. “It’s beautiful tonight,” you added on quickly, the nerves finally settling in. You were talking to her. The Lady of the House. The famous matriarch of the Dimitrescu family. Part of you wondered if you’d ever get the chance to speak with her again. 

“Yes. It is.” But that fire-like gaze never once shifted from you. A pause. “Though, isn’t it chilly, little mouse? We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold now, would we?” 

There was something there- something… frightening. She was luring you back inside and it was working. A mouse indeed because if you were the prey, she was certainly the predator. The cat. Her tone was condescending and obviously a bit degrading, but you couldn’t help wanting to submit. She was entirely right- it was freezing and you had been exposed to the frigid air a short while before she had arrived. There was no point to stay outside or in the kitchens either as your furry friend had run off and the night was drawing to a swift close, preparing itself for another day. And there was no point in turning around either- turning and running to the village because in just a few large steps, your Lady could probably catch you. And if she couldn’t, well then she’d send others after you- or maybe you’d be killed by the other predators that lurked within the woods. So again, her hint of reasoning and malice was completely right. Was there any sense in the risk of tracking through the cold forest at night to eventually come across the village while being at the mercy of things with sharp teeth the entire way? Or would you rather spend the rest of your days in a semi-warm castle surrounded by work and the occasional book to fill your time while being both protected and threatened by powerful beings? Truly an interesting choose-your-own-adventure, but you knew there was no argument. 

“Yes my lady,” you responded again in that soft voice, angling your head down once more before taking a few steps forward until reaching the threshold of the worn path and the kitchens. 

You looked back up at that, returning your hands to your sides. Now that you were closer to the interior of the kitchen, basically standing within it, you wanted to shut the doors quickly and run off to bed- but the night had other plans. Of course you knew your Lady was grand- she was the great Alcina Dimitrescu after all, but never had you realized that she may be that… different. Different in the good sense. The wonderful sense. The intriguing sense. The downright terrifying sense. Expecting to meet white fabric and then golden eyes immediately, you tensed- because that certainly was not the case. Your neck craned and craned and craned until you were staring up at the tallest woman you had ever encountered in your entire life. A voice in the back of your mind- probably your subconscious- was screaming in wonder as to how you could have possibly missed… well… that, but the only indication that you were fazed was the widening of your eyes. And she didn’t look offended at all. In fact, as a slow step was taken forward into the moonlight, your eyes caught onto the hint of a smirk. 

More white fabric was suddenly put on display, leading up to the strong curve of rounded hips and then a cinched waist- covered in plated silk that fell from a tight loop tied around the bottom of her chest. Muscular thighs pressed just a bit against the dress, shifting under the moonlight but still smooth. Her breasts were hard to ignore- she was certainly blessed with a curvaceous figure, but as your eyes traveled higher you realized that her body wasn’t the most captivating thing about her appearance. It was her face. Lady Alcina Dimitrescu was absolutely beautiful. With midnight hair curled around her neck, the rest was hidden behind a wide-brimmed black floppy hat that cast a shadow on the porcelain-like flawless features of her white marbled skin. Dark eyebrows rested in a medium arch, one raised higher than the other as her ruby red lips were quirked into a smirk- smile lines were the only creases her face held. She was- stunning. Breathtaking. Exquisite. She smelled of gardenias and jasmine and a hint of something coppery. Her hat just brushed the ceiling of the kitchen, but she looked at ease- as if she belonged there, which she didn’t. Such unstained white against the coppers, golds, and blacks of the kitchens simply stood out too much- her brilliance was like the sun and you, in that moment, felt like a speck of dust in comparison. She must have been at least 10 feet tall, maybe smaller- maybe about 9” - 9’5”, you couldn’t really tell as the moon’s fingers didn’t reach her face entirely. 

Then an utterly sinful closed-mouth laugh filled the silence. Your eyes shot from her lips to her eyes. The amusement was clear. She knew what she was doing. She knew of her effect. You quickly hung your head, feeling as though you were committing a crime meeting her gaze head-on. 

“Oh come now little mouse,” a cold leather gloved hand swiped under your chin, holding it gently with her thumb’s sharp nail resting below your lip before dragging it upward. It didn’t take much force as you couldn’t possibly look away. She didn’t even need to bend down to hold your face. “Is the moon all that entranced you? Or were you wishing for something more?” She knew. Definitely. Her golden eyes flashed with something you couldn’t place, but they looked down at you nonetheless- powerful and intoxicating.

“I- I- well-,” you shivered beneath her gaze, trying your hardest to force it down but it was so difficult when the chill of her skin began seeping through the glove and into yours. “I- the- n-no my lady.” You didn’t even know if you had answered her question. Those lips looked impossibly soft- plush and red and inviting. The little devil in the back of your mind wished to kiss her on the spot. Her smirk fell away. 

“No? Then I suppose there was no real reason for you to leave your little hole, was there?” 

Her voice was like steel. You quivered. You’d heard stories of your Lady’s temper from others around the castle, but never had you experienced it yourself (and you weren’t too keen on witnessing it anytime soon). You frowned, slowly shrinking into yourself. For a moment, you swore you could feel the grip on your chin tighten. 

“No, there was no rea-real reason my lady,” you shook your head while in her grasp, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn in intimidation. Your hands were gripping the fabric of your maid’s skirt once more, desperate for something grounding. 

“Hmm,” came the responding hum while she tilted her head ever so slowly. Then a tongue- pink and sharp at the tip- darted out to draw a swift line over the seam of her lips. God how you wanted to kiss them. The feel of cold fingers against your chin left abruptly. Immediately, you missed the startling touch. 

“Well honesty should be rewarded, wouldn’t you agree little mouse?,” a pause as she waited for your response. All you could do was nod while trying not to drown in her golden gaze. Reward? What sort of reward? Why wouldn’t you be honest? What was she going to give y- “Your reward for this evening will be an escape without punishment,” she grinned- what would be vampire teeth on humans were like fangs within her jaw- unbelievably sharp and long. On both the bottom and top. “I suggest you scamper off to bed then little mouse. A cat won’t always be around to save you from idiotic endeavors,” were her parting velvet words. And then she was gone. Two steps to the left and she was ducking beneath the entryway, the doors closing automatically behind her. 

You breathed out a sudden sigh of relief, the chill from the outside world running through you again before you spared a lasting glance at the moon and closed the doors to the kitchens. Holy shit. She was- she had been right there. Just a few feet in front of you, tall and expressive and dangerous- that sugar coated smirk could blind many. Part of you wondered if you were included in that group as you imagined her lips in front of you. She surely would be a great kisser- something wild, maybe sweet, but completely possessive. You shivered at the thought before running from the dark of the kitchens and scampering off as you had been commanded- in through the small wooden door off to the side where the maids could enter from and through the changing room before you reached your destination. 

And you’d never admit how hot your body really felt after that encounter, despite the mix of chilled wind and an equally icy touch. You’d never admit that you dreamt of ruby lips, a pink tongue, and golden eyes. You’d never admit that that’s what started a cruel and tragic fascination. 

=========================================

So there you were now, knowing that the only time you had seen your Lady fully was in the kitchens months ago. Your skin erupted in goosebumps every time you heard heavy heeled clicks on linoleum and your hands shook whenever you went to feed the cat, lingering just a tiny bit once the creature had run into the underbrush. You had decided on a name for it after that night, deciding that a cat with bright green eyes and ginger and white fur that sparkled in the moonlight deserved to be called Alcina. Perhaps you were crazy for picking such a name, especially when you cooed the title softly to her in the middle of the night, but part of you liked the inclusion of the Lady into a softer part of your days. You never saw her anyway- so that was the only risk you took. Of course the fluffy little thing didn’t match her aura or personality whatsoever, but you supposed that it could help you see her in a less intimidating light. (Deep down, you knew that would never be possible).

The wine bottle felt heavy in your palms, weighing over the crystal glass as the rich red concoction flew over into the bottom of the goblet. It was the last chore you had to complete before turning in for the night as the mistresses of the house were due for dinner. A few other maids flew in and out from the dining room, plates of food and cutlery in their hands as they bustled about. 

“Y/n,” the soft whisper of a smaller maid beside you- Jessica- was full of trepidation, “they’ll be here in a moment but I have to talk to you!”

Before you could respond, the girl was taking your hand and leading you off to the side, through a door, and into a rarely used sitting room. She looked nervous, ringing her hands once she stepped away from you. Instinctively, you gave her a concerned look. 

“Hey what’s wrong? You ok?” You went to place a comforting hand on her shoulder but she flinched away, raising her hands in fists to press to her chest. You stepped back. 

“N-no! She- she- the-,” then she broke out into sobs, big fat tears running down her cheeks and lips pulled down unflatteringly. You frowned, suddenly uncomfortable with the heaviness of her emotions. Your right hand rose hesitantly, not touching her but just- reaching out? You didn’t really know. But your heart dropped a bit at her words- who was _she_? Your mind told you not to be so coy.

“Jessica- tell me what happened. C'mon,” you knew you weren’t the best at comforting others but you lowered your voice to an empathetic tone anyway, venturing to place your hand on her bicep. She didn’t pull away that time. Instead, she flew into your arms with her fingers pressed over her eyes and heavy sobs wracking her body.

The wind was knocked out of you just a bit but you quickly came to and hesitantly slid your arms under hers before wrapping them around her back. She cried for a good five minutes then, pressing into you further until you were stuck between her and a wall, trying your best to comfort. The sound of the sisters settling down in the next room for their dinner was enough for the poor girl to come to her senses and then she was pulling away from you, hands going to grip your shoulders. Pure unfiltered fear was bleeding across her face, eyes wide and chest heaving as the tears on her red cheeks were beginning to lessen. You waited as she took a few deep breaths, still holding onto you like an anchor. 

“She-” breath “she just-” breath “she-” a gulp “she- j-just k-kill-killed M-Marcus!” Her lips parted as the tears increased tenfold, but before she could let out a much louder gut-wrenching sob, you slapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened.

“Ok listen,” you take a steadying breath- you didn’t know what you were doing, you didn’t know what you were suggesting- but you knew that Jessica would be killed if she had to stand before the Lady once again, “you need to pull yourself and forget about what you saw ok? You cannot let her see you like this.” 

Her head shakes wildly beneath your hand, and then she’s gripping your fingers tightly and pulling your palm away from her lips. The tears were flowing freely, but she was too frozen with fear to care. 

“I can’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking with hoarseness. With head shaking again, she gripped your fingers tighter. “I can’t I can’t she just- she- his head Y/n it was-“ Jessica’s face contorted into an expression of absolute horror. 

You took a shuddering breath, swallowing slowly before nodding. Marcus had been one of the butlers- he was kind and smiled at you from time to time. He seemed harmless, if not gentle. Why on Earth would your Lady kill him? 

“Y/n?” Jessica’s voice was soft. 

You blinked, jumping just a bit as she released your hand and stepped back. You swallowed, desperately trying to find something to say. What were you to say? How could you console someone who had seen something so- so- traumatizing? 

“Ok,” you tried collecting yourself, “you saw something you shouldn’t have. You- you-“ she looked at you hopefully (why were you the one she went to?! You weren’t important! You weren’t special!) “you need to go.” 

She stepped back slowly, mouth opening and head shaking. 

“Listen,” came your suddenly hard tone- yes, holding it together, that was good, “you need to go. Leave. M-Marcus is dead and you aren’t and if you don’t want to die anytime soon, then you’re gonna need to- to escape.” You nodded at your words, staring at her and gently raising your hands as if to beckon her foreword. 

“Wh- no- she’ll- she’ll kill me!” Came the scared yelling-whisper. 

“She will kill you anyway!” You whispered in a growl, hands curling into fists at your sides. What didn’t she understand? If she didn’t want to die by the hand of your Lady- she had to go. Immediately. 

“But- but-”

“You’ll have a better chance Jessica,” you insist, stepping closer before taking a mental leap without thinking. A lot of the other maids didn’t trust you- the shadows were your friends, you didn’t talk much to others- but this was a chance to make some sort of bridge wasn’t it? You could get through it. You could meet your Lady head-on. Sure you hadn’t done it in a while, and only ever did it once, and she might be 9’6” feet tall, but you had refrained from taking risks for the entire year you were there. In the split second of a moment, you made the biggest decision of your entire life. 

“I’ll cover for you,” came your words in one breath. 

“You- what?” Jessica was astonished. 

“I’ll cover for you,” well- too late now, “You get your things, quickly, and get out through the kitchens. There’s a snow bank on the other side of the path, down there is an even more hidden one- it goes down steeply to the village. If you go quick, you can make it. I- I think you can make it,” you take a quick breath, “if she asks, if she asks I’ll- I’ll come up with something.” 

It was silent for a moment except for the scraping of cutlery against plates and light chatter of the sisters in the dining room. Jessica was staring at you with wide eyes, mouth hanging open just a bit as she seemed to curl into herself for a moment. And then she was bursting forward, wrapping thin arms around your midsection and burying her forehead into her chest.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you,” came her repetitive reply, desperate and sad but grateful.

You freeze in her grasp, hands not really knowing where to go. They settle on her shoulders eventually, gently rubbing in an awkward motion. Her thanks continue in a steady stream before you begin to get anxious and start pushing her away a little bit. She looks at you quizzically, swiftly running her fingers under her eyes to clear the tears. 

“Wasting time won’t get you anywhere,” you explain gravely, watching as her eyes widen before she nods. A little simple-minded but you still felt sad for her. 

“Ok,” is the only other word given before she turns to walk through a set of doors that leads into other rooms. 

“W-wait Jessica,” you call softly, stepping closer. 

She turns, hand on the door handle while looking at you with a good mix of fear and empathy. 

“You better be gone by the time I get back to the quarters, ok? And it’ll be ok. M-maybe not right now but,” you take a stuttering breath, “it will be.” Then you smile- something indulging and a little scared. 

Jessica responds with a hesitant smile of her own, wobbly and tearful but otherwise understanding. And in that moment- a part of you feels as if you truly belonged in the castle, taking a big risk and helping another while under the guise of danger. Maybe it’s a trick of your mind but you swear you see the girl mouth a quick ‘I’m sorry’ before leaving the room and starting her escape. 

Then you step back, taking a deep breath, finally left in solitude for once the entire day. 

That’s when you realized what you’d done. 

What fate you had just sealed. 

Oh god.

Oh good god. 


	2. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You face the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH! AH! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE FEEDBACK OH MY GOODNESS!! I promise I read every single one of them and will respond with some thanks soon! (My eyes are burning- yikes) ANYWAY: Here ya go! I've never updated something so fast. Hope this is ok? Thanks again for everything everyone <3 <3 
> 
> Much love! ~ Em 
> 
> (All mistakes are mine. I didn't revise in this chapter either lol)

That was it. You were going to die. You were sure of it. Only a few more minutes and a simple knock of your knuckles and then you’d be on the other end of a 9 foot Lady’s fist. 

_**‘Don’t be unrealistic. Surely she’ll hear you out first,’**_ came your mind’s hopeful comment. 

_**‘Don’t be ridiculous. Do you think she heard Marcus out first before killing him?’**_ was the other part of your subconscious, trying its best to make sense of the situation. 

And although you’d never admit it, a tiny bit of your heart hurt at having heard of your Lady’s ruthlessness. Of course you weren’t an idiot- you knew she was deadly, and terrifying, and so so beautiful. But perhaps, in the back of your head, you had placed her on a pedestal of unfulfilled threats and mere intimidation. It appeared you were wrong. Very very wrong. You didn’t know what Jessica had seen, or why she was there in the first place, but you knew it was bad. And if the Lady didn’t like her staff finding corpses or witnessing murders, there was no way Jessica would simply be trusted with such dangerous information. The village spoke frequently about the castle Dimitrescu and what happened within its walls, or so you heard from the other maids, but there was no proof. At all. If a person saw something, it was likely they wouldn’t be able to speak a word of it. There was also an unspoken agreement between the castle staff that no one acknowledge or question the blood, screams, or corpses in front of the Lady or the sisters. If anyone did- it was guaranteed they wouldn’t be seen the next day. You knew that would be the case when it came to Jessica. You knew that would, maybe, be the case when it came to you. If only you just willed your shaking hand to knock. 

But your heartbeat felt like a hurricane in your ears, beating and beating in intense anticipation as you stared at the door. It was white with gold detailing and your eyes traced the curves and blooms of the wilting flower designs, completely aware of the fact that you were stalling. Completely aware of the fact that behind that door was your Lady and she didn’t know you were there- she wouldn’t offer that you step in- she wouldn’t open the door for you. Swallowing once to aid your dry throat, you heard the knock before you registered what you had done. 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck. 

You tugged your hand back to your side.

 _ **‘Maybe we should’ve gone with Jessica,’**_ deep down, you agreed with that sentiment. 

“Enter.”

The voice hadn’t changed. Strong and lady-like and unnecessarily seductive despite holding a bored, unfazed tone. You swallowed again. _**‘We missed that voice, didn’t we?’**_ Yes- you did. Well- there goes everything. 

Gripping the curved golden door handle, you slowly pushed it open and silently promised yourself that you wouldn’t meet her burning gaze unless absolutely necessary. Sweating palms let the door close softly behind you, leaving you alone with one of the most feared women in Romania. You tucked your arms behind your back, straightening them and clasping your hands tightly together. With eyes and head bowed, you stared at a beautiful honey-wood floor. 

“My lady,” you said gently while bowing a bit at the waist, reminiscing ever so slightly on that night in the kitchens. Oh how you wished you had the little cat at your side in that moment. 

“Ah, so we finally meet again little mouse,” came the teasing reply- sultry and smooth and obviously overflowing with amusement. It made your insides do flips with the low registered tone. 

You had yet to look up when you heard the shuffle of fabric and, upon instinct, rose your head to see her figure sitting before the vanity. It was bordered with gold, as if the mirror itself was a painting and the rim were the frame. Split into three sections, the wings were turned inward ever so slightly, yet provided a wide view of the room behind the high backed golden and red chair she sat on. As for the room itself- it was gorgeous. Painted in reds, pinks, and the faintest oranges mixed with golden detailing- it looked fit for a queen. On the far end of the room was a chaise lounge chair with red velvet plush and a black leather arm and backing- it pointed away from the windows above it, which displayed the snow outside. _**‘Hope Jessica left already,’**_ came your mind’s brief thought. You decided to push it away for the moment. On the right side of the room, opposite the vanity, were two sets of large double doors- one, you guessed, led to the en suite and the other probably led to the wardrobe. The only piece of furniture left for you to dart your eyes over was a large- very large- mahogany four poster bed right beside the vanity (you did note that it was the closest thing to you as it was basically right next to the door- you also noted how comfortable it looked). There were red with gold trim curtains that flew from a flat canopy of soft looking fabric and each one was tied to a post, leaving the deep maroon color of the duvet on display. Your body ached to crawl into it. To feel something soft pressed against you- something inviting and warm and utterly sweet. A darker voice in the back of your head claimed that you wanted safety- craved safety- but surely that couldn’t be found in Lady Dimitrescu’s bed could it? You didn’t really care. You stared at the soft looking pillows longingly before snapping your gaze to the vanity once more. 

Immediately, your eyes greeted pure gold. 

You froze. 

She was observing you- observing her bed. Your body ran hot under such scrutiny, immediately tensing up and holding your breath. Her lips were pursed just a bit, making them look softer and more severe under the filter of blood red lipstick. _**‘So… pretty…** **’**_ your intrusive thought didn’t help the flash of embarrassment running through your veins. But you knew you weren’t wrong. Her lips were pretty. Just like her eyes, which seemed to squint ever so slightly as she ran her golden gaze over your body- you felt like a doll on display. Then your lady rose an eyebrow, slowly and deadly, as she leisurely looked upon your face again. Something seemed to shift in that split second- one could only see it if they were staring- the amusement from earlier had disappeared. It was then replaced with… something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Disappointment? Anger? Boredom? 

A loud scoff suddenly filled the room. You’d hate to admit that you jumped- but you did. 

“Don’t mice squeak? You have yet to say a word. What is the point of a maid if they don’t talk, hm?” The voice like rich wine was cold and felt like vinegar on the tongue. You went to open your mouth, readying yourself for- well you didn’t really know what you were going to say, but you didn’t want to upset her. Before you could get a word out, she continued. “Speaking of which,” there was a pause as she glanced down at her vanity before fixing you with a glare- it made your instinct to flee kick in as you swayed a bit on your feet, “where is my handmaiden?” 

Silence filled the room like an old friend. You felt your heart stop. Handmaiden? She couldn’t possibly mean- no- Jessica was just a maid! You hadn’t heard a thing about her being recruited- or- or- serving the Lady herself! With freezing veins, you stared. It felt like you hadn’t blinked in forever. But taking your eyes off of Lady Dimitrescu in that moment seemed like the worst idea ever. That golden gaze was slowly setting you on fire and you couldn’t help but look away, just fixing your eyes to a different spot- like her dress. It looked thinner that day, and held an off-white color with a creamy tint. She looked as if she were dressed for an event. The fabric was certainly made from silk, molding to the curves of her body and falling around her legs like water. Then your eyes widened as you fixated on the slit that ran up from the hem of the dress to the middle of her right thigh- an overwhelming amount of alabaster skin was suddenly put on display before you, enticing and flawless. Not a scratch or scar could be spotted on the shifting muscles of her calves, strong and powerful and glowing gold a tiny bit under the candlelight. And her thighs- wider due to her sitting position, were thick and impenetrable, hiding immense muscle and unspoken strength. Surely, if you were to sit on her lap, you wouldn’t be able to straddle her properly. Not with the way she would probably hold your waist, thumbs brushing against your skin teasingly as she- 

A quick flash of bright light caught your attention, drawing your mind away from your fantasies (you ignored the sudden jolt of pleasure that shot through your frame). Looking up to her neck, you found the reflection of flame upon white pearls- shined to perfection and flowing into a low-hanging necklace that fell into the line of her cleavage. The dress didn’t do much in covering her chest, instead aiming for a sweetheart neckline (which accentuated her assets further) that led into long sleeves. They covered her shoulders, which you couldn’t help but lose yourself in for a moment as her biceps made clear definition through the creamy silk. Her shoulders were broad, no doubt strengthened to withhold the weight of her breasts (another intrusive thought wondered how she managed to bend down all the time and never have a sore back- she stood as straight as a pencil). With your gaze darting higher, you caught sight of matching pearl earrings- they caused a large contrast in comparison to her hair, which was pinned in her signature style. Slick and curled and shimmering and beautiful and half hidden beneath the floppy black hat once more.

Wait wait wait- hadn’t she said something about Jessica? Or her handmaiden? You frowned, quickly looking back into her eyes before realizing that you had lost yourself in front of her for the first time ever. _**‘Could this get any worse?’**_ Yes- you hadn’t even begun speaking yet. She was staring at you blankly. Oh god. _**‘Speak! Speak! Do something!’**_ But what? What were you to say? What were you to do?

“I-,” Could this woman let you speak!? Before you could let out another sound, the low draw of her chair- more like a throne- running along the wood broke off your train of thought. Then, in one graceful movement with her angled legs tipping forward and becoming straight, she was standing. At 9 feet. Maybe taller, you noticed, considering she was wearing matching pointed stilettos. You almost groaned at the sight of them. Surely such brilliance should be worshipped, right? It took everything in you to suppress a shudder as your mind flashed with the imagined feeling of high heels dragging along your back, pushing you closer to the heaven that laid between shapely thighs-

“Little mouse?” Oh good god. How had she gotten around you so quickly? How had you not noticed? Were you truly that distracted? Or perhaps it was a vampiric trait- you didn’t remember reading about intense speed in the tomes you used to flip through. 

Something brushed your back. It was sharp, scraping against the black fabric of the maid’s dress. You instantly arched away, an overwhelming amount of fear suddenly crashing into your body. Oh. Oh no. The signature clicks of those heels sounded like drums in your ears, vibrating on every wall around you. In a circle. She was- she was circling you. Like prey. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up. And despite not touching you, there was a distinct feeling of cold air trapped around her form and slowly encasing yours. Like tendrils of smoke, but they were invisible and seeped into your veins. The black shoes strapped to your feet suddenly felt like lead. The touch came again, though it was only a light brush against the shoulder. A warning. Her shadow was looming- intense and dark. 

“Little mouse?” Came her whisper. You didn’t think she liked to repeat herself, but goodness her hushed tone was to die for. You felt your knees grow weak as a soft breath ran across the shell of your ear. “Little mouse, tell me,” your Lady’s voice was melodic- sensual- sweet- a billion other beautiful words, “what happened to my handmaiden rat?”

Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. _**‘If we had known… we probably wouldn’t have told her to go’**_ You chose not to listen to that thought. But it wasn’t wrong. You didn’t know Jessica was her handmaiden. You also didn’t expect that tone. She sounded like liquid sex but the threat was there. Drawing you in. ‘Rat’ was a bit extreme but you couldn’t tell her that. In fact, you didn’t know what to tell her in the first place. It felt like every time you were in her presence (even though it happened one other time), you lost your footing. You slipped. Perhaps she was just like that- with an incredibly intriguing aura and terrifyingly beautiful appearance. The touch came again, harder than before. _**‘If you keep getting distracted, you’ll be dead within minutes’**_ \- more like seconds but it didn’t matter. The breath was still by your ear, though the cold of her body was closer, hovering over yours. You figured you looked the perfect picture of predator and prey. Cat and mouse. You willed yourself to speak. 

“I- well,” damn you wobbly voice, “she’s not feeling too well my lady.” Ok- not necessarily a bad start. You still had no idea where the hell you were going with the story. “She asked me to com-”

“You are a horrible liar mouse,” came her growl in a puff of accusation beside your face.

The low rumble almost made you moan, but something else caught your attention. With blood frozen, you felt five thin cold somethings sliding up and over your shoulders. They flexed and moved at a glacial pace, ruffling the cloth of your dress. You lowered your head ever so slightly, trembling, using your peripheral vision to spot- 

_**‘You should’ve run away with Jessica.’** _

Blades. Long long blades that rested leisurely over your shoulders and upon the space of your chest. She had slid them gently- slowly- as they didn’t cut through the fabric you were wearing- but they were still there. Dangerously close. A threat. The largest threat you’d ever encountered. You wanted to run. You wished she wasn’t so tall. You wished you had kept your mouth shut instead of trying to play last minute hero. You wished you’d never been caught in the kitchen that night- spawning something strange within you. And you wished, very very very deep down, that she just get it over with already and put you out of your misery. Sometimes the shadows were unbearable. The cold bled into your skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface as a shiver raced through your spine. There was no way she missed that. 

“We’ve been over this little mouse, haven’t we?” Her tone was light- teasing- a false sense of security she promised but you knew better. **_‘We’ll probably be sore later with how tense we are’_** but you couldn’t bring yourself to relax. The blades tapped lightly against your chest. “Obey and you will be rewarded,” it was cheery and sweet, “disobey,” it was dark and cold, “and you will be punished.” If it were a different situation, in a different place, under different circumstances, then maybe you could find that threat sexy. But there- with blades waiting for fresh blood, resting across your body like satchel straps, and being trapped beneath the suffocating feeling of Lady Alcina Dimitrescu’s wrath- you felt completely and utterly… lost. 

What would happen next? 

You didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. You wanted to turn away and run for the hills. _‘ **You know we want to turn in her arms and hug her.’**_ You wanted to just be dead already so you didn’t have to face the silence anymore. **_‘You know we want to face silence. Just- not blade induced._ ’** No- no you wanted to go home. **_‘Where is home?’_ **Where is home? _‘ **Why, the castle of course. Right here, beneath your Lady.’**_

“You are so often lost within that head of yours aren’t you little mouse? It isn’t polite, nor is it entirely helpful when having a conversation,” she was clearly annoyed, “Now speak or,” a pause- she let the lilt in her voice linger- “face punishment.” Your mouth opened immediately. Because she knew. Of course she knew. She knew everything. She knew of your dream to escape when you were in the kitchens. She knew of your eyes lingering on her bed. She knew of your eyes lingering on her. She knew you were perfect prey. She knew you were going to speak. She knew you had tried to do a good deed. _‘ **Yeah- lovely how that turned out.’**_

“I’m- I am so sorry my lady I just- I didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know the rules of the house, handmaiden or not. And I didn’t know! I didn’t know and she was just- desperate and- and crying and it was uncomfortable and I- and I’m- I couldn’t- I couldn’t-” finishing your sentence would probably result in death. _‘ **I couldn’t let you kill her.’**_ You wanted to cry. And scream. And run and run and run because only a few minutes ago- maybe 10, maybe 60- you were alive and ok in your corner of the shadows. And then- you weren’t. **_‘Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb…’_**

And then you were facing the silence again. Funny how she didn’t move when you were babbling on… ok not that funny… more like scary. Some predators were as still and quiet as stone when preparing to strike.

“You couldn’t let her face the same fate as the idiot boy I killed.” She finished your sentence for you, though it wasn’t angry or sugar coated sweetly, it was just fact. “Was that what you meant to say, mouse?” Ah- there came the teasing. It was a threat lathered in a layer of golden syrup.

You swallowed dryly. 

“Yes my lady,” came your soft reply as you wished to bow your head- but her body and claws trapped you in ways you couldn’t truly define. 

“Hmmmm,” it was a drawn out hum and would’ve caused butterflies to go wild in your tummy if you weren’t deathly afraid of whatever the hell would happen next. The blades tapped again, almost absentmindedly. You tried your hardest to keep still as you felt her bend forward- probably an awkward position but you couldn’t help your height. Then a cold chin was propped onto your right shoulder, her hat just barely brushing the tip of your head as she lined her lips up to your ear. So so close. You wanted to kiss her. _‘ **We want to kiss her. Kiss her! Kiss her dammit!’**_ Your fingers flexed at your sides. What the hell was it with you and suddenly finding danger seductive?

“I believe you’re lucky little mouse,” came her soft tone- slow and dripping with sin and threat alike. _‘ **How the fuck are we lucky? Cuz we get to die by her hand?’**_ Didn’t actually sound like the worst thing ever. “Serving punishment on an anniversary would simply be a horrible consequence.” _**‘She… remembered?’**_ How- you had only spoken to her one other time months ago- you hadn’t even met with her for the recruitment process, the head maid at the time helped you with that. She- you were baffled. But your interest was quickly stolen away as you almost jumped at the feeling of the blades suddenly running themselves gently over your shoulders, brushing the small of your back, and wrapping around your waist. Your heart beat wildly. It pounded against the walls of your chest, desperate to get out and escape through one of the windows you were facing. **_‘Even if our heart could leave- the windows are frosted over. You’re trapped. We’re trapped.’_ **Trapped- yes- that sounded right. Your Lady’s claws flexed ever so slightly over your tummy, almost interlocking. Keeping down a shiver was absolutely impossible as the chill from all sides swept through you like mist settling low to the ground. Her breasts brushed your upper-back just a little bit, but it was enough to set your nerves on fire. Hot and cold at the same exact time- _**‘We’re going to explode.’**_ Yes- probably. You went to look down, catching sight of the long blades running over the fabric of your dress, before one finger (blade?) lifted and curved, running itself beneath your chin and successfully pushing your head up. It didn’t take much. 

“So,” she drawled, “since today is one of… celebration,” you knew there wouldn’t be a celebration- an anniversary like that wasn’t one you glorified, “and because you’ve found me in a good mood,” oh? “I’ll relieve you of punishment for now little mouse.” Oh. W-was she serious? You couldn’t exactly turn to look at her, but the light flex of blades against your stomach was enough to signal you. Oh right- a thank you was in order. You gulped. 

“Th-thank you my lady,” you inclined your head a bit in a meager bow, desperately trying not to sag into her embrace- no matter how dangerous it seemed. 

She couldn’t be serious- could she? You- you disobeyed- you weren’t important, you wouldn’t be important- she could easily get rid of you. But she didn’t. Or, was she deciding not to? Under the guise of something like a celebration? **_‘Don’t be an idiot. Trust your Lady. She says she will protect us-’_ **no… no that’s not what she said and it didn’t work like that. Surely there was something else. Surely she was joking. Yes, probably- there would be a light chuckle against your ear, a calling of ‘little mouse’ and then she’d impale you on all ten blades. Yeah- yeah that’s how it would g-

“Your heartbeat is so rapid little mouse,” you trembled, knees instantly letting you down and preparing to buckle, “why is that?” She was playing coy. The blades tightened just a bit, gripping you but not of harmful intent- probably because if she didn’t add some support, you were going to crumble. One tapped against your heart, teasing and curious. _‘ **Her blades must look so pretty against our dress.’**_ Probably. You took a shallow breath. If she wasn’t going to kill you- well- hadn’t you already risked everything before? 

“Why did you kill him?” came your soft mutter, hesitant and daring and maybe you had gone a little crazy in the span of a second but it was too late to take the words back. _**‘You want to know. You want to know why.’**_ Yes- you did. But maybe, maybe you should have asked at a different time.

The cold left you. 

You missed it immediately. 

That hold wasn’t there anymore, and the gentle weight of her chin on your shoulder was gone. Her body had moved away, the breath wasn’t present. _**‘No no no! Come back! Come back!’**_ For some odd reason, you felt colder without her there. You also felt smaller. There was no doubt she had straightened as her shadow grew- still looming over you but not so close. Wait- wait had you made her angry? Was she upset? Was she- did you- your heartbeat ran faster. Much like a mouse, you realized. 

“Such a curious little thing, hm?” **_‘God those words. If she keeps that up, we’ll be on our knees in seconds-’_** no- well yes- but no! You had to focus. Two sharp heel points walked into your peripheral vision, followed by long strong legs, swaying hips, a thin waist, large bust, and broad shoulders- then a black hat to top it all off. You swallowed as your eyes traced the line of your Lady’s body while she walked back to her vanity. Slow and seemingly bored. 

Then she lounged in her chair, throwing one leg over the other before leaning forward and reaching for a tube of lipstick that sat on the dark wood. The small golden tube held between her fingers- which had returned to normal alabaster skin with sharp black nails- looked so much smaller in her grasp. You watched carefully as she removed the cap **_‘How is she so graceful?’_** , put it down, twisted the tube, and rocked forward to drag the red stick over her soft lips. 

“If you must know little mouse,” she sighed- her chest heaved slightly, “he had broken into my cellar, stolen a bottle of ‘Sanguis Virginis’, drank half of it, then stumbled into one of my sitting rooms looking for one of my daughters so he could place his filthy little hands on her,” she spat. She was angry. Very angry. Her voice felt like hot coals on your skin. You wanted to run. _**‘We want to comfort her. Please- go forward- hold her.’**_ Yeah right. You’d only do that if you had a death wish. And with the way you could feel your heart slamming against the cage of your ribs, probably so much louder in her ears, you very well could have one. But she wasn’t finished. “So I killed him. Does that answer your question, little mouse?” Yes. It did. 

You nodded hesitantly before remembering your place. 

“Yes my Lady.” 

Your palms, warm and sweaty, returned to clench the fabric of the maid’s dress. She wasn’t looking at you- instead focused on touching up her lipstick. And touch up she did- your Lady’s movements were practiced and smart, not a single gesture made wrong. You wanted to kiss her then too. Run up to her and climb into her damned lap and kiss her and try and wash away the gross feeling that settled into your stomach as cold reality hit you. She had killed a man. She had killed many men. She drank their blood and allowed her daughters to torture them for fun. She was ‘a monster’. And yet- and yet- the tall woman sitting before her vanity, made with iron but appearing as a flower, was full of stories. Just like every other human. **_‘But she’s not human.’_ **Did that really matter? **_‘...no.’_ **She protected her daughters. She was a mother. She was strong. She was independent. She was everything you weren’t. Of course death was extreme but- but- **_‘... but people actively hunt for her kind. What would we have done?’_ **Probably something similar to what she did. Maybe. You didn’t really know. 

Silence fell over you both again like a blanket. Though for some reason, that time it was warmer. She wasn’t going to kill you. She had answered your question. What happened next? You frowned.

“Oh dear,” came your Lady’s soft tsk- you looked at her expectantly, “it appears that I no longer have a handmaiden then.” Oh. Oh no. Her golden eyes caught yours in the glass of the mirror, digging into your soul with a cruel intensity, searing a brand on you that felt a lot like laying claim. You froze. 

As she turned the tube of lipstick back the other way and capped it, her replenished red lips dragged slowly into a smirk. It was both utterly captivating and petrifying at the same exact time. Oh it was guaranteed she could hear your heartbeat speed up, like a bunny on the run from a fox. Luckily, she stayed in her seat and chose to languidly run her fingers over the arms of her chair. 

“I know you’re not an idiot little mouse,” it was said like a fact, “Quite smart actually, hiding in your shadows and scurrying beneath the cat’s paws. One doesn’t always come across a mouse like you,” her smirk widened. You thought it cruel. “But I know of every little thing that happens within these halls my dear, and now that the opportunity has presented itself,” she paused, “I see no reason for you to continue running about in your shadows.” 

She had been looking everywhere else but you, making it out to seem as if she were pondering. As if she weren’t threatening. Then her eyes switched as you blinked. Gone from staring at a detail on the wall to staring at the details in your eyes. There was no amusement there anymore. How did she change her expressions so well? 

“From this moment forward, you will be my personal handmaiden,” her voice left no room for argument as she rose her chin a bit, obviously asserting more of the dominance that she already had. “I don’t expect you to know everything at once, but there are rules. Memorize and remember them. We’ve already spoken twice about what happens when a mouse goes rogue and disobeys...,” golden eyes seem to change then, into something softer with a world of cold metal lurking behind the cloud of innocence, “and you don’t want to be a naughty mouse, do you?” Her voice felt like silk running slowly over your skin with how gentle and genuine it sounded- but the threat was there. Don’t disobey. 

“N- no my lady,” you bowed your head, throat running dry as you swallowed. The moments after that felt like lightning. 

There was a shuffling coming from your Lady’s side of the room, and then the sound of her chair being pushed back once more. Her white heels filled your vision. 

“Memorize and remember them little mouse,” was the whispered divinity of her tongue as one cold curled finger dipped beneath your chin and gently forced it upwards. Your neck craned almost painfully as she stood so close- the familiar chill from earlier wrapped around you again. Golden eyes stared intensely as her other hand pressed something to your chest. Instinctively, you grasped at it, just brushing your fingertips against hers. She didn’t seem to react at all while you barely held down a shiver. The object felt like paper. It took everything in you to avoid looking down. 

“Midnight. Do not forget.” Those were her parting words- spoken in an undeniably cold tone- before she was taking a step and brushing past you. The door didn’t close behind her. 

Because she knew. She knew just as she knew about every other damned thing. She knew you would follow. She knew you would stay put if asked of you. She knew you wouldn’t rifle through her things. She knew you wouldn’t ruin her bedspread (though you did want to sleep in it). She knew you would obey. She knew you’d be a good handmaiden, a nice handmaiden, an obedient little pet mouse. She knew and she knew and she knew. **_‘Damn you Jessica.’_ **Those fiery eyes were burned into your memory at that point- calculating and cold but so expressive all the same- it hindered you from finding even the smallest hint of what she was thinking. Like a puzzle. But you had not even a single piece. The door still hung open as you looked down at the piece of paper, wondering how something could be so soft. Was it special paper? **_‘What the fuck is special paper?’_ **You didn’t know. You were just- trying (and failing) to distract yourself. To stall. 

The handwriting was scrawled and long- unprofessional and unrefined but still pleasing to the eye. Some letters were hard to read, but you had a feeling that it didn’t matter- there was no way the Lady had written the rules herself. In gold pen, the 8 rules were stated plainly. 

_1\. Obey and serve your Mistress at all times._

  
_2\. Bathe, clothe, and tend to your Mistress each morning and evening._

  
_3\. Arrive at 5:30 AM each morning to ready your Mistress._

  
_4\. Arrive at Midnight to pour your Mistress’s nightcap and help your Mistress settle into bed._

  
_5\. Disobedience will not be tolerated._

  
_6\. Any act or gesture of defiance will be met with punishment._

  
_7\. Refer to the Lady of the House as ‘Mistress’._

  
_8\. Any breaking of these rules will result in punishment decided by your Mistress._

Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. 


	3. NOTHING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midnight rolls around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SCREAMS AND CRIES. Thank you so so sosososossoso SOOOO much!! For!! The!! Support!! I swear I'm still alive- I was just unhappy with how I wrote this chapter originally and wanted to change a bunch of it- I hope this is ok. Things are going slow but eventually I'll do time skips and we'll get to some more drama and angst. Please stick with me through my posting, I don't have a set schedule but I do try to write when I can. I promise I won't abandon this story. Anyway~ if anyone is reading this note please let me know if you'd like for me to respond to comments. I promise it's not me being rude, I just know that I tend to give stuff away for future chapters cuz I hate leaving readers hanging. 
> 
> RIGHT- MOVING ON- ENJOY! (hopefully this is good >.<)
> 
> (All mistakes are mine- I'm slacking on my revising lol)

So news traveled fast in the castle as you came to find out. The moment you stepped into the maid’s quarters, there were strong arms wrapping themselves around your waist, hugging you tightly. For some odd reason, the warmth wasn’t as attractive as the chill of Lady Dimitrescu’s body. That thought was quickly pushed away, too overcome with confusion as a bunch of teary smiles and eyes stared at you.

“Thank you so much Y/n, you dear thing,” came the voice of one. 

“You’re amazing Y/n! You saved her! You saved our Jessica!” cried another. 

“Y/n- thank you,” one said softly. 

They all began talking at once, showering you with praise and thanks of differing degrees. Many shot you sympathetic looks as well, wiping the tears from their eyes. A younger maid asked desperately if you could help her escape. You instantly shook your head, trying to suppress the urge to run from her as your thoughts hastily drifted back to the feeling of cool blades against your dress. Fortunately, another older maid came by to collect the girl all while offering thanks and gentle sympathies. Well- it was clear that they knew you had taken up Jessica’s position. But for all the stress you endured, and the anxiety of seeing Lady Dimitrescu up close and personal, you couldn’t help the heavy sigh of relief that escaped your lips as you finally took a seat at your bed. It wasn’t Jessica’s fault. And she had gotten out- so it was fine. It was too late to go back in time, but it was fine. You’d probably have a lot more anxiety about everything, but it was fine. Yeah- it was fine. It was ok. Yeah. Totally. It was ok. **_‘It’s not ok.’_** ...No. It wasn’t. 

The moment each maid left the room, sending sad glances your way, the tears started to rise. Shaky hands discarded the paper of rules into the drawer of a bedside table before turning to lay in your lap. Things were blurred with fresh salt as you wept silently, eventually turning to lay on your side and push your head into the pillow. 

Well that was it. You didn’t really have much left. **_‘Funny how we thought we had anything in the first place.’_** Yeah. Funny. You felt like an idiot. Dumb decision upon dumb decision- the first one being the acceptance of the Dimitrescu letter a year before. No one wanted to send their children off to the castle, but it paid well and filled the time. You had been keeping correspondence with your mother while away, constantly reassuring her that you were fine and still alive and well. You were, at least when you were in the shadows. **_‘It’s going to change. All of it.’_** You didn’t really know what ‘it’ was- perhaps routine, relationships, life itself- but your subconscious was correct. While tears splashed wet onto the sheets of your bed, you promised yourself you wouldn’t tell your mother. She would be worried sick. Granted, she was older and you wished you could spend more time with her, but the money all went to keeping her safe and happy. **_‘If she can live the life we can’t, that’s all that matters. Right?’_** Right. Totally. 

If you did a good job, you’d probably get a rise in pay. And then maybe, somehow, you could get out. _**‘But our Lady… what would she do without us?’**_ She could find someone else. Just like she always seemed to do. After about ten minutes of silent weeping, throwing your hand tightly over your mouth to avoid making a sound, the warm sadness faded into cool anger. Damn her. Damn Lady Alcina. Damn her cruelty and damn her breath-taking looks and most importantly, damn her fucking rules. In the span of only an hour you had become an emotional wreck, jumping from one feeling to the other and it was all. Her. Fault. 

_**‘Liar.’**_ What? How? _**‘You brought this upon yourself. Don’t be an idiot.’**_ She didn’t have to do that to us. _**‘Do you truly think our Lady cares? She needed a handmaiden, she got a handmaiden. What did you expect?’**_ Death. _**‘But we didn’t die. Great. Now we have to deal with this. Serve her well and maybe we’ll get a reward.’**_ You chose not to think about what sort of reward could come from serving someone like Lady Dimitrescu. But your subconscious was right- the only thing left to do was follow directions, just like you had for an entire year. A huff left your lips as the tears began to dry. So much for an anniversary. 

========================================================================

A nice butler- Jonathan- had knocked on the maid quarters’ door about half an hour after that. It had gotten dark in only a matter of minutes and your bones carried a sudden sad ache. You didn’t want to do anything but the maid mentality was still there- in full force- and you needed to busy yourself. Jonathan stopped you. 

“I heard about your change in position Y/n,” he said gently, bowing his head with his hands tucked behind his back, “I’m sorry. But we really can’t thank you enough. None of us would have been brave enough to do something like that,” dark eyes rose to look at you gently, gratitude clear on his face. 

_**‘Brave. Right. Whatever you say Jonathan.’** _

“It’s erm- it’s ok! I’ll manage ya know?” You try and smile, though it comes out a little wobbly. 

He stood in the threshold of the doorway, dressed in the black and white of his uniform and fidgeting just a bit. You didn’t know him very well, but you appreciated the small smiles he threw at you when you passed each other in the hallway. Jonathan was also quite young, only about 20 or something similar and he held a boyish charm that made the younger maids swoon. He was kind and stayed out of trouble as best he could. 

“So I just needed to let you know,” he said lowly before clearing his throat, “that someone has already been assigned your previous duties so… yeah,” an awkward smile and tilt of the head was thrown at you. 

Oh. Replaced so easily? _**‘Not replaced. We upgraded.’**_ But it didn’t feel like that at all. You could feel your face fall a little bit. 

“Oh, um, thank you. Don’t really know what I’m gonna do now… but thanks,” your voice was a bit weak but you smiled anyway and leaned against the door a bit. He grinned.

“Yeah! M-maybe if you wanna eat dinner with us in a little bit, we’d be happy to see you there. A few of the others still want to talk to you.” You could see the blush across his cheeks and wanted to question it, but he was already stepping back and nodding. “See you later?” 

“Erm,” you didn’t want to go, “we’ll see!” 

He decided to leave it at that, quickly dipping into a bow before walking at a quick pace down the hallway. You shut the door afterwards, gently resting your forehead against the wood as the day’s exhaustion settled over you further. The compelling need to busy yourself from earlier was dwindling and though it was only nine o’clock, you wished that you could climb into bed. But your eyes gazed back at the plain white sheets and thin light pink duvet and the flat pillow that was just a little too hard for you, and suddenly you felt like falling into a heap on the floor. It didn’t look nearly as comfortable as your Lady’s- though that was to be expected. She was a Lady. You were not. Your hand gripped the door knob. 

_**‘Well what on Earth are we gonna do now?’** _

Sleep? Please?

_**‘No. We can’t. She said midnight- we have to be there at midnight.’** _

You wished you could argue, but the hope to escape was still fresh in your subconscious and you didn’t fancy dying before being given the chance to live. So with a quiet whine and angry exhaustion, you quickly retrieved the paper of rules and walked out of the room in search of the only other place that managed to pique your interest- the Dimitrescu library. 

========================================================================

Oh it was absolutely glorious. Despite not being a big reader, such brilliant architecture made you swoon. The large maroon colored doors, with stained glass rectangular designs in the upper part of the wood, were open to the staff when the Lady or her daughters weren’t occupying the huge room. Three incredibly large windows usually let the beautiful light of the clouds and sun shine filter into the space- it bathed everything in the prettiest colors you had ever seen. The library itself was old, having been built before your Lady was even born, not that you knew when that even was. You just guessed. But despite the age, the dark mahogany and maroon tinged wood shimmered with a clean gloss. The bookcases, guaranteed the largest you had ever seen in person, were both built into the walls and freestanding in the open. It reminded you of a name you’d heard a while ago- perhaps somewhere reading, perhaps from another maid or one of the sisters- a library called ‘The East Room’. It was affiliated with a man named Pierpont Morgan- you didn’t know him at all- but well… maybe it was in a book that you saw it, because the photo had been simply stunning. The wood coloring, the high ceiling with stained glass, the multiple levels filled with books and books and books and the warm glow of the lights… you had thought it was amazing. But the Dimitrescu library was six times the size and had four entrances- the only library fit for a castle. 

There were plush settees in different parts of the large space, pushed against walls and occupying darker corners or spots where small coffee tables sat. When you had first arrived at the castle, you didn’t think a luxury such as the library would be open for the staff of the property- but the other maids said it was one of the only things the mistresses of the house let them have. Or Mistress, considering Lady Dimitrescu was the overseer of basically everything- from the village to her home. You hadn’t taken up the opportunity to go searching very often, but it was one of the quietest places in the maze of a castle and the Lady and her daughters rarely occupied it.

You passed two young maids on your way in, nodding and smiling despite your internal cringe as they shot full-toothed smiles at you. Yes that sort of behavior would take some getting used to. Though as they continued on their way, not pausing to put a word in, a breath of relief fell from your lips and your shoulders slumped just a bit. It hadn’t been that long since your position in the castle ranks had switched, but the sudden lightning strike of change among the other staff members made you want to crawl into bed and stay there. Being the personal handmaiden to Lady Dimitrescu was not a good thing, but you knew the smiles were riddled with sorrow and the sentiment behind ‘good luck!’ _**‘They probably expect us to be dead in a week.’**_ Yeah- probably. 

There weren’t many members of staff mulling through the library, only a few reading in a small cluster by one of the sitting areas and two looking through the shelves. Your grip on the rules became tighter as one of the butlers eyed the paper, not even bothering to look at you once he glanced away. After shuffling over to one of the darker corners and sitting down, trying to draw no attention, a sudden flurry of thoughts ran through your head. No one else received those rules. Orders? Rules? Demands? _**‘We’re kinda special.’** _ But not in the way that mattered. Never in the way that mattered. A slight wrinkle ran through the paper and a sudden pinch of dread ran up your spine. Would you be watched with a close eye?- closer than ever before? Would a mere wrinkle in the paper result in punishment? What were the newly formed boundaries? How did it work? _**‘We will learn.’**_ But you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to have to learn. Learning meant changing and changing in a place like that- well it wasn’t advised. _**‘We have no choice.’**_ You knew that. You didn’t want to, but you knew that. 

The rules sparkled up at you, sitting in your lap as if they weren’t the most daunting set of numbers and letters you had ever seen in your life. 

_1\. Obey and serve your Mistress at all times._

Yeah yeah yeah- that was to be expected. Serve, obey, do what you’d been doing for a year- but just- differently. 

_2\. Bathe, clothe, and tend to your Mistress each morning and evening._

Well that would be just great. Fun. Fantastic. She was the most beautiful intimidating dangerous woman you had ever seen in your life and it was your job to clothe, bathe, and tend to a woman with blades for fingers. _**‘Funny how we’re so sarcastic in our head but utterly terrified out loud.’**_ Sometimes, you wished you could stick a knife through your temple. Not often- but sometimes.

_3\. Arrive at 5:30 AM each morning to ready your Mistress._

So only… about 4 to 5 hours of sleep a night? You didn’t get much as it was, but sometimes you slept well- though the bad nights outweighed the good. Oh well. You couldn’t do anything about it. 

_4\. Arrive at Midnight to pour your Mistress’s nightcap and help your Mistress settle into bed._

Right. You looked up, spotting a grandfather clock pressed against one wall, facing a tall bookshelf. The wood was dark and old, standing out against the honey mahogany and polished surfaces. There were carvings within, faces of… vampires? With teeth bared and faces pulled into angry snarl-ish expressions- there were also clawed hands wrapping around the face of the clock, snaking up to frame the square glass of numbers. The golden engraved thin metal hands read 9:55. You deflated just a bit. Still so much time to go… 

_5\. Disobedience will not be tolerated._

Instinctively, your fingers pinched the paper. Disobedience. It could technically mean anything when it came to someone like Lady Dimitrescu, but you couldn’t help the bubbling anxiety in your tummy. Unless those were butterflies? You didn’t know. A mix of fear, and something you preferred not to name, slowly filled your veins like sludge. Disobedience. Disobedience. Were you a pet? _**‘We’re her little mouse.’**_ Ugh. Right. _**‘Don’t act like you don’t like it.’**_ Well it wasn’t the worst name ever… but it was unsettling. 

_6\. Any act or gesture of defiance will be met with punishment._

The sludge increased tenfold. Punishment. Punishment. You’d never been down to the dungeons, but the stories surrounding the part of the castle that was hidden away underground sounded… true. You couldn’t exactly disprove them. Only a handful of maids and butlers were actually trusted with the duty of heading into the dungeons, sometimes to carry out duties, sometimes to ‘check on’ whoever was down there. You’d never heard people entering the castle either- at least none that were taken to the dungeons. The sisters preferred to be transparent about their torment and leave the doors open when torturing poor souls- some staff members had disappeared after walking in and trying to cause a scene. You hadn’t been there at the time, but when the noises traveled through the halls, you avoided that side of the castle at all costs. 

Refer to the Lady of the House as ‘Mistress’.

 _ **‘Gladly.’**_ A heavy sigh left your body. 

Any breaking of these rules will result in punishment decided by your Mistress.

You were familiar with how the sisters acted toward their victims and some of the staff members. But the Lady… _**‘Mistress.’**_ the Lady- _**‘Mistress.’**_ was different. The Mistress was different. Your Mistress was different. Her punishment was never known. Some of the butlers whispered that her torture took place in the dungeons and that they could hear the screams when they were asleep, considering that the butler’s quarters were closer to the entrance than the maid’s. They said there were chairs with spikes and rolling mechanisms where the person would be stretched- they claimed the weapons and devices were horrific. And yet… the Lady- **_‘Mistress.’_** your Mistress always walked without a spot on her figure and a bored expression on her face- or at least that’s what they said. You frowned, hunching over in the seat. Surely, there must be a different punishment for the handmaidens? Or- handmaiden? Why did she only have one? 

So many questions, not enough answers. So much anticipation, but no action. At least not yet. 

You spent a few more minutes reading over the rules, only barely glancing up when the small cluster of staff members decided to head to dinner. Your stomach was rolling with nerves- there was no place for food. 

_1\. Obey and serve your Mistress at all times._

_2\. Bathe, clothe, and tend to your Mistress each morning and evening._

_3\. Arrive at 5:30 AM each morning to ready your Mistress._

_4\. Arrive at Midnight to pour your Mistress’s nightcap and help your Mistress settle into bed._

_5\. Disobedience will not be tolerated._

_6\. Any act or gesture of defiance will be met with punishment._

_7\. Refer to the Lady of the House as ‘Mistress’._

_8\. Any breaking of these rules will result in punishment decided by your Mistress._

You had memorized them. Sort of. Internally, your wording was a bit off- but you had the incentive to look at them a little later before midnight. After your billionth read over of the words, you looked back to the clock- the old hands read 11:15. Great. Only some time to go and then you’d be able to rest. 

Deciding to ignore the pull of exhaustion, you found your feet trailing over to one of the closest bookshelves. All had fallen quiet. It was both peaceful and nerve-wracking to be there alone, no quiet chatter filled the air and the soft flip of pages was absent. It was just you and the shelf of books before you. Glancing to the right, you spotted the golden plaque nailed perfectly to the wood. Romance. Oh. Amazing. The fingers on your right hand flew over the spines, tapping on a few of the hard leathered ones and scraping over the ones sewn together with cloth. The library had over hundreds of books in it- probably millions at least- and all were kept in stunning condition. You didn’t know who had the job of organizing and cleaning each book, but their work was impeccable. Eyeing the rest of the library, you took in the various glass interpretations of the Gods across the ceiling- some depictions sexual, others violent, one or two of them even sweet. You liked one of the smaller ones, tucked away in a cloud, of two boyish figures draped in white feeding grapes to one another. Or- one was feeding purple grapes to the other who wove a flower crown. A soft smile graced your lips as you stared at it, suddenly overwhelmed with the sheer hope it made you feel. You embraced it. Let it fill your soul for only a moment because that was the sort of love you wanted. Gentle, kind, a love to take care of you. When you were younger and caused trouble for your mother But then… standing in such a magnificent library, despite the danger… well the grapes seemed a lot more symbolic. The fingers on your left hand twitched against the paper of rules. 

“What are you smiling about, mouse?” 

The hiss made you jump, forcing you to stumble backward into the bookcase behind you. _**‘What the fuck was that?’**_ You didn’t have an answer, but the venom spat in your nickname made you shiver. It was nothing like your Mistress’s. Instead, it was mean and felt like poison was poured down your spine- intrusive and angry and crass. Your bones couldn’t help but freeze, struck with a sudden lonely and dangerous reality wrapped in the silence that fell once more. _Thump… thump… thump…_ your heart should have been racing, but the before stillness of the library had fallen again. Right hand gripping the shelf behind you, fingers pale they held on so tight, you tried relaxing. Tried staring back up at the grapes in desperation. The boys looked happy. Content. Not at all aware of what sort of castle they lived in. That was good. They were too innocent. They didn’t need to know. Where had the voice gone? Who was it? You-

“You’re such a dumb little brat. Not even aware that you should bow to your betters!”

Without a second to catch your breath, a cold hand was pulling against the collar of your dress and hauling you backwards against the bookcase. The page of rules slid out of your grasp as your breathing was suddenly cut off, being constricted by the tightening of cloth around your neck. _**‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!’**_ With feet scrambling wildly, slowly losing ground as the hands pulled back and angled down, your fingers began pulling at the cloth. Desperate and warm and sweaty, your nails tried ripping it away from skin- but it was no use. The hold was almost inhuman. That’s when your eyes widened, mouth falling open as realization struck. Daniela.

“M- Mis- Miss. Dan-”

“Shut the fuck up rat!” 

Her yell cut off your helpless croak as the pull became tighter. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. There was a sudden ringing in your ears, deafening and loud but not bell-like. Your mouth gaped, opening and closing as you desperately tried searching for air- but there was none. It wasn’t coming. The edges of your vision started burning black, blurring the books and dimmed lights as tears sprung into your eyes. Daniela’s hands were cold, brushing against the back of your neck and pulling and pulling and pulling and pulling and pulling and pulling and- 

You stumbled forward. 

Air came quickly, running down your esophagus and filling your lungs as you scrambled blindly, holding your throat and wincing at the tender skin. You couldn’t see the damage but it was most certainly red- red and raw and probably bruised where Daniela pressed cold knuckles against the back of your neck. The ringing was subsiding quite quickly, but the world was still blurred. You coughed, wincing as the dry bruised skin contracted before settling into an ache. You had to leave, get out, go- do something. Your feet slid against the marble floor, gravity showing no mercy as you leaned forward and smacked your palm against one of the shelves, holding on for dear life as your left hand cradled the abused skin. Breaths still came in and out greedily, pouring with distress. No thought could be seen as an answer as to why the hell Daniela was suddenly so aggressive, but staying to find out was not on the agenda. Turning around, your right hand went to grip another shelf to push you forward. 

“Leaving me so soon little bitch?” Her voice was cold and sadistic, high-pitched and mocking and right behind you. You tried grasping for the wood faster. **_‘Too slow.’_** No- she was just too fast. 

Something heavy struck the middle of your back, resulting in shaky legs and a stolen breath ripped from your body. The bruises were probably already forming as you fell, forearms sliding against the linoleum. Scrapes would no doubt be left behind. A grunt escaped your lips. _**‘What the hell is she doing?!’**_ You didn’t know. You didn’t know. Fearfully, you pushed some weight onto your forearm and rocked yourself onto your back. The cold of the floor seeped through the maid’s outfit like a shock, but it was nothing in comparison to the sudden chill of Daniela throwing her legs over your thighs and straddling you. A pained whine left your lips at the slight addition of weight. Your features pulled into a cringe. The cold was nothing similar to Lady Dimitrescu’s. 

“Mother’s judgement is sliding mouse. Can you tell? She could have picked anyone but she chose you. You fucking traitor,” her growl was angry as she leant forward, stained face hanging above yours. 

She was beautiful- most definitely- but the mania barely hidden behind muted gold eyes was ugly. The sharpness of her fangs bit into the flesh of her lips, pulled into a pretty but terrifying smile. You were frozen, unable to do anything except beg for a miracle. And for the loving boys on the ceiling to look away. As Daniela bent closer, sharp nails digging into your biceps, your veins turned to stone. She smelled of dried blood and heavy wine and maybe… fire? It was hard to tell as the copper of her breath hit your face. You tried to control the instinctive cringe and draw-back that your body held. Then, she was ducking forward in a quick flash of black fabric and pushing her cold nose against the slope of your neck. Oh. Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no. Oh god no. You wanted so desperately to fling her off of you, to get that angry ice-cold skin away from your humanity, to avoid the bite you knew was coming. _**‘No! That first bite is not for her. It’s not hers. Get her off! Get. Her. Off!’**_ But even if you could, you were no match. Painfully, your throat contracted around a suppressed whimper.

That frosty winter night came to mind then, looking at the moon with all the love you could muster. _If only you had taken a leap of faith and placed another step forward- if only you walked just a bit closer to that small hidden path in the snow… if only… if only…_

“Take notes mouse bitch,” she bit out with a snarl. You jumped. Her breath was hot against your left ear. “Mother doesn’t deserve a dirty pet like you. Cowardly and disgusting,” she said slowly with venom, “you are nothing. Understand? NOTHING!” The yell made you flinch, your eyes closing to greet darkness as the nails dug harder. They’d probably draw blood. You didn’t know what time it was. 

_**‘Let’s hope we’re not late’**_ that wasn’t fucking important! 

“N-” a bell sounded somewhere then, ringing through the halls of the castle. It was light and twinkly and far away- you could barely hear it- but Daniela seemed to wince. You watched her straighten. “Do anything to my Mother and I will shit in your carcass,” were her harsh words before she disappeared in a flurry of insects. They brushed against your skin angrily before fading into nothing.

…

Silence. 

It greeted you kindly, like water dripping off of your form and replenishing your thirst. Your bones felt like lead, cemented to the floor and heavy and in pain. The damage wasn’t too bad. She didn’t draw blood as you came to find when your hands shakily pressed against your biceps, only finding cut cloth and crescent shaped indents. And your throat, still tender when your fingertips made light contact, only ached and burned just a bit when you swallowed. 

A shuddering breath left your body, building up from your lungs and coming out as a long sharp sigh. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed in that moment, quickly getting tired of the hard ground against your body. But you couldn’t. You still had a job to do. So with slow movements, you gripped wooden shelves and slowly pulled yourself up onto your feet, taking a steadying breath once you stood up straight. Black leather shoes were scuffed on the toes and the collar of the dress was loose and slightly torn, just like the spots on your arms- but it was too late to change wasn’t it? Your eyes sought out the clock. Bending down to peer through the spaces were Daniela shoved her arms, you looked past the books and saw the shimmering hands. 11:30. Right. You had some time then. But it would take you at least 3 minutes to get to the maid’s quarters, then maybe about 10 minutes to change, and then- well- you sighed beneath your breath. Perhaps your Mistress would ignore it. 

In silent defeat, your shoes squeaked as you trudged over to the paper to pick it up gently. The wrinkle was still there but it was otherwise unharmed. At that, you let out another sigh. Maybe a relieved breath. You didn’t truly know. It didn’t matter. Daniela’s words were busy clouding your mind, bringing you back to reality as your head span just a bit. 

Nothing. That’s what she had said. Nothing. You were nothing. You weren’t important, you weren’t special, you were a coward- just as she claimed. Was she wrong? 

_**‘...’** _

Well no one had ever told you any different, at least not while in the castle. You were nothing there. Nothing in comparison to her, nothing in comparison to her sisters, nothing in comparison to their Mother. Your Lady. Your Mistress. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Eyes desperately searched for the grapes.

Well at least they were still there, glittering in the light of the library and still held between the bronze fingers of the boy. Oh his gaze was so lovely peering down at his lover. You believed he was his lover. Even if he wasn’t- who was to tell you he wasn’t? No one knew them. They were just two boys, glued meticulously to the ceiling. Beautiful and tragic in a way you couldn’t place. The hope didn’t come then. Just a strange sadness. 

Oh well. 

_**‘Nothing left to do but get ready.’**_ Yeah. 

You headed out of the library, ignoring the heaviness of your throat as you swallowed and carefully held the paper to your chest. You truly must have looked like a mouse, shaking just a bit as your wide blank eyes darted around. On unsteady feet, you set off in the direction of your Mistress’s room and ignored the way your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing her. 

========================================================================

11:58. 

11:59. 

12:00. 

You could hear one of the bigger grandfather clocks chiming somewhere in the house- the foyer you believed- as the time struck midnight. Midnight. Midnight. Midnight. You were there, you were on time. A breath of relief left your nose softly before you straightened up, gathered whatever courage you could, and knocked gently on the door. One quick knock. Two quick knocks. 

“Enter.” 

You suppressed a shiver. 

Much like earlier, you entered quietly and nervously, letting the door close softly behind you before bowing respectfully. The ruled paper was held tightly in your right hand. 

“Little mouse.” Yes, that was much better than Daniela’s hiss. Your Mistress’s voice was melodious, like the deep rich tones of a harp or piano keys. She sounded- happy?- to see you. 

“Mistress,” came your gravelly reply. Shit. The strangling had been pushed to the back of your head, not entirely forgotten of course but certainly not present as you were more concerned with seeing your Mistress. You softly cleared your throat, swallowing as well. It didn’t really help. 

“How did you manage to get yourself so dirty only a few hours after I promoted you?” Ah- Lady Dimitrescu’s tone changed then, to something bored and mocking and utterly disappointed. Daniela’s ‘NOTHING’ rang in your ears. 

You straightened but kept your hands behind your back, trying to hide the slight shake. Pure golden eyes were alight and glowed slightly beneath the torch’s fire- they glistened in a way that Daniela’s would never be able to achieve. Your Mistress looked the same as she had earlier, but it didn’t stop the breath from leaving your lungs. Still powerful, still commanding and beautiful, and draped over the large chaise lounge. It did look quite comfortable. Her left arm was thrown over the curve of the leather, hand dangling effortlessly, and her other held- held- 

You swallowed, a hot surge of desire shooting right through your belly and rendering your knees useless.

Lady Dimitrescu’s long pale fingers, devoid of blades, cradled a long black cigarette holder. They were wrapped around it perfectly, without practice needed, and in the fiery light of the room, you could make out a red lipstick mark on the flatter end. It was encased in gold and easy to see- just like the opposite side that held the cigarette, white and medium sized and obviously lit as smoke filled the air. You didn’t really like the smell of smoke- but in the room, mixed with her perfume in a strange dance of scents, it ran through your lungs like wine. Strong but sweet and fruity and ashy and just so perfectly her that your body twitched in yearning to leap forward and take a drag yourself. To have her cradle your chin and push your head up as she slotted the precious gold into your mouth before taking it out and watching you breathe the white/grey tendrils into the air. Even if you didn’t like smoke, you liked her. _**‘Oh?’**_ No. Nevermind. Your thoughts reverted back to her question. 

“I- well- erm- M- Miss D-”

“Speak properly little mouse,” her voice was stern. You nodded quickly before clearing your throat once more. 

Perhaps thinking about it would have been better, but you didn’t want to lie. Apparently, you weren’t very good at it. And maybe… _**‘Maybe she’ll show some sympathy.’**_

“Miss. Daniela caught me in the library,” you said softly, keeping your voice low before looking away and bowing your head. Facing her gaze felt difficult. At least you remembered the proper title of her daughter. 

All fell quiet then, the only sounds being the crackling of the fire and the barely-there inhale of Lady Dimitrescu taking a drag of her smoke. She sure liked silence. You tipped your head up a bit, just catching the moment where she let the soft hazy mist leave her lips. Your Mistress’s head was tilted back, neck on complete display as the smoke was lightly blown from her mouth. It curled in the air at a slow pace, lingering leisurely as your eyes stroked the column of her neck- white and devoid of flaw as the skin shone beautifully in the torch light. Oh you wanted to kiss her so badly. So so badly. Wanted to rush forward and drag your tongue along the smooth skin and press soft kisses to it until it turned warm. You wanted her to drag those fingers along the base of your neck and draw lines that made you shiver. You wanted- 

_**‘Why is the room spinning?’**_ ...Huh?

Nausea suddenly ran through the pit of your stomach, quickly pushing the desire away and immediately replacing it with worry. Pressure built behind your temples as your fingers interlaced nervously behind your back, suddenly overcome with too much heat that you had to separate them again. Your feet felt untrustworthy- swaying just a bit. What was happening? Then darkness fell as you allowed for your eyes to close, taking just a moment to fix yourself. Warm fingertips pressed against your temples, trying to relieve pain as you inhaled deeply. Ah- maybe that was it. Too overwhelmed with the golden hue of the room, the scent of the smoke and Lady Dimitrescu’s perfume, and the hoarse feeling of your aching throat- maybe that was why. You didn’t know. You couldn’t really think in the moment. Your dry lips parted suddenly. 

“M- Mistress, I-”

Cold fingers pried your own away from your head, immediately replacing them as the back of a palm was laid against the skin. Jeez she moved fast. You could hear a scoff nearby before something brushed past your shoulder and- well- pushed you. It wasn’t rough, but it was enough for you to go stumbling backward, feet falling clumsily one behind the other until you braced for impact. But no hard wood was felt. Only- oooooooo. Your hands shot out to catch yourself, landing perfectly in a sitting position with a little bounce as the softness of the duvet felt like utter heaven. Silky and nice and a little cold to the touch but so kind to the sudden temperature of your skin. Part of you begged to fall back on the bed and fall asleep immediately, exhaustion was already pulling at you, but your eyes had snapped open while falling and you were suddenly back in the room with your Mistress. The nausea was still there, but quickly mixed itself in with fear and anxiety- not a good combination whatsoever. 

“I am so sorry Mistress, I don’t know what’s happening,” your speech is breathy and fast as you try to stand just a bit but immediately fall back into your previous position. The ache had begun building again. Your hands gripped the duvet, eyes falling shut. The torches in the room felt much brighter than before. You just needed- well you didn’t really know- you needed relief? Something like that? 

“What is happening,” her soothing voice came out in irritation, “is the work of my daughter.”

Then the feeling of light fabric grazed your knees, eventually coming to rest on the heated skin of your legs. Her cold hand returned, though it was softer and merciful as she applied pressure beneath your chin and along your jawline, coaxing you to look up. You did, eyes opening slowly and squinting as to avoid facing the light of the room. Fortunately, her tall figure filled your vision as she was bent at the waist, her large hat casting a shadow over your close proximity. The cigarette was gone from between her fingers, but the slight scent of smoke hung around her form. Golden eyes were hiding irritation- it was clear to see- but she stared blankly, looking over the ruffled and torn state of your uniform and assessing the damage left on your skin. Your mind wandered then, realizing that she probably knew a lot about the human body considering her line of work. She knew you were weak. Fragile. Like glass or dust or porcelain. 

“Hmmm,” the hum was deep, vibrating and silky and to-die-for. Some pressure applied to her fingers pushed your head to the left. Golden eyes latched onto the ring of your skin immediately, scanning over the bruising and redness, knowing that every movement probably made your throat ache. You tried not to tremble in her grasp, soaking up the chill that soothed your body’s flash of heat and grounding yourself to the bed with your hands. It wouldn’t do well to fall into her figure, though you desperately wished that she’d offer more relief with the cold of her skin. Again, your eyes closed. She turned your head the other way, slowly, before pushing it upward just a bit.

Your Mistress was so close, leaning over you and quietly assessing the pain. A sharp inhale rocked your body when she craned your chin upward and left your neck on full display- though it was mainly caused by the sudden feeling of a finger tracing down the side of your throat. There was no uncomfortable pressure like her daughter had shown- instead, the caress was… thoughtful. As if she were doing it subconsciously. You wanted to scoff, a voice in the back of your head insisting that nothing Lady Dimitrescu did was entirely subconscious. Suddenly, the soft pressure increased and the smooth pad of a cold thumb was pushing against the bruise on the right side of your neck. A hiss escaped your lips, eyebrows drawing in and eyes screwing up a bit as you flinched. What on Earth was that for? _**‘Shhh. Trust her.’**_ You knew you shouldn’t, but there was no press of blade against your skin just yet- so you tried to suppress your whimper as the pain increased for a fraction of a second before disappearing. 

“Hold still,” came her stern tone from above, serious and irritated. Internally, you drew into yourself. ‘NOTHING’ rang in your head again.

“For as good of a predator as she is, my daughter is an idiot.” The following growl was dark, weighed with intent to punish as she dragged the thumb across the dark patches of your neck- slow but gentle. “So disobedient, knowing she shouldn’t touch what isn’t hers.” _**‘Hers. Hers. We’re hers.’**_ She never said that. _**‘She basically did.’**_ Shut up. The touch ran back to your chin, lingering before your bringing your face back down a tad forcefully. Your eyes screwed up once again. 

The smoky breath was running across your skin, tinged with the perfume of the room and the inclusion of wine she must have sipped beforehand. You could feel the muscles in your thighs straining as they pressed together, a side effect of wanting to curl into a ball and fall asleep. 

“Look at me little mouse,” your Mistress’s tone was glorious. It filled your ears like a song, soft and demanding and in control. 

Without much persuasion, your eyes were opening. A flash of gold flew past before she stood up, leaving you facing the tops of her thighs. Upon instinct (and respect), you looked away- peering at where the edge of the bed met the floor. Something twitched in your peripheral vision. A quick glance that way and you spotted the subtle movement of the hand on her hip clenching, the silk fabric of her dress wrinkling just a bit before it was gone. 

“What did I just say?” Fuck- that tone was… well… sexy. And frightening. She was undeniably pissed off, but you honestly couldn’t say if it was because of you or her daughter. Swiftly, you craned your head up, eyes widening and features subconsciously morphing into innocence. Fire glared down at you before a slim dark eyebrow rose. Oh. Right. 

“I- I apologize Mistress. It won’t happen again,” you assure her, the words practically tumbling off of your tongue as you nodded in agreement with your sentences. You couldn’t really promise it wouldn’t happen again, but when she stood over you, waiting for you to be obedient and good- well part of you knew that you’d promise her anything. 

She searched your eyes, looking for something but you didn’t know what. Then, without another word, a satisfied nod was sent back at you and she was turning. Walking away from you and the bed, the sway in her hips forced a blush onto your already heated face. The nausea lingered around somewhere in your brain, making you wince every now and then when the torches on the walls burned too bright, but it didn’t stop you from getting up. You could get up. You could get up and walk out- or- or chase after her. You could do something. But you didn’t. Your hands released their grip on the duvet, turning to lay in your lap. Your shoulders relaxed. Your thighs unclenched and parted gently. Internally, you were still screaming- your heart danced like mad, your stomach was rising and falling with butterflies- the anxiety and worry and… interest… still stewed. Even as she disappeared behind one of the doors, your eyes not lifting fast enough to see what was behind it, you still sat on the bed. Waiting. You didn’t really know why. 

========================================================================

A few minutes- maybe an hour- maybe an hour and a half- passed before your Mistress came back. You were busy staring at your shoes, watching as they shuffled across the floor in wait, when the door she had gone through opened again. You couldn’t fight the instant want to tilt your head up and see her- so you didn’t even try. 

_**‘Oh. My. God.’** _

Holy shit! Holy shit!

Your eyes shot back down for a moment, wide and full of disbelief. There was no way- she- the- what? Were you seeing things? Your eyes shot up, peering through your lashes, before running away again. Oh goodness. Oh gosh. She was- she- your Mistress- Lady Dimitrescu- she was- oh god. Only a towel covered her body, molded to the curves of her skin. Sculpted legs and arms on display, cleavage just barely tucked behind the white fabric of the cloth, hands and sharp black nails settled on strong hips- the color made in clear contrast, and- a bare face of makeup. From the quick glance you took, her hair also seemed to be down- curled and wet and still dripping but otherwise flowing along the back of her neck, probably ending somewhere beneath her shoulder blades. She- she must have showered. **_‘Clearly.’_** You swallowed, the ache in your throat no longer a bother as you had other things to worry about- like the spike in both your body temperature and heart rate. If she had heard your heartbeat a bit earlier on, there was no doubt she heard it then- fast and fluttery and absolutely a dead giveaway to your state of mind. But you continued looking down, even when the heat and steam drifting through the bathroom’s threshold met your figure all the way on the other side of the room. Without much notice, your body had clenched up again- every nerve on fire and every muscle dripping with anticipation. 

“What is the second rule you are meant to follow my little mouse?” _**‘Her little mouse! Her little mouse!’**_ You wanted to punch yourself. 

Her tone was strict, having not changed much from before. Though that time around, there was a hidden threat reserved only for you. Right. Because of the rules. The rules. The 8? Rules? What were they again? You had only read them an hour or so before! They had to be in your mind somewhere- where were they- what was rule 2 anyway? What- ahhh. Your eyes stopped shifting back and forth, the building panic immediately falling as you relaxed. Right- rule 2- 

“Bathe, c-clothe,” oh- rule 2, “and tend to your- my!- my Mistress each morning and night.” Was it night? Perhaps it was evening. Oh god. As fast as the panic had dissipated, it returned.

Bathe and clothe her! You hadn’t necessarily forgotten- your brain just short-circuited upon catching sight of way too much flawless skin- but the thought hadn’t really formed. Yes of course you had to bathe and clothe her. But… bathe and clothe her?! A small part of your brain snickered, finding joy and humor in your inner turmoil. But another part insisted that you get up and do your job. _**‘Find comfort in doing our job.’**_ Oh great! Finally- some good advice from the deepest part of your psyche! 

On unsteady feet, you stood up and straightened out, wringing your hands just a bit at your sides. In comparison to your Mistress’s beauty, the destroyed outfit was probably even more distasteful. But you couldn’t really bring yourself to care about it as, out of the corner of your vision, you saw said Mistress turn gracefully and open up the other set of dark mahogany doors. Ah- the closet- you were right! 

“Come along mouse, I’d hate for you to lose your way,” came her call as she disappeared into the black. It was clear she couldn’t care less.

Why was it so… dark? You decided to ignore the blatant question and took off after her, walking with intent toward the closet. In that split second, you were sure that if she had asked it of you, you’d have followed her anywhere. Even into a pitch black walk-in closet that- 

“Ah!” a pathetic yelp fell from your mouth, born completely out of surprise and bubbling anxiety. 

The sudden onslaught of light was enough to make you stagger back, cowering just a tad as you pushed your forearms up and brought the backs of your hands to your eyes, trying to shield yourself as best you could. It wasn’t of much use as the candles on top of the chandelier were all lit at once, casting brilliant shadows and shapes along the off-white floral patterned walls. Surprisingly, you weren’t quick to question how the hell she had managed to light those flames simultaneously- instead, your mind was much too preoccupied with the opulence of the room before you. The theme seemed to be white and black, with touches of red, gold, and honeyed wood in certain spots. In the center of the room was a large round white plush settee with a metal gold frame holding the soft cushion in place- the wood beneath was oak set in a black stained finish- elegant and practical and most probably sturdy if it was the main sitting-piece. The walls were covered in a floral-like patterned paper, white and shimmering silver in certain lights- it followed the entire square of the room. On both the left and right sides, there were shallow parts of the wall pushed back to give space for the clothing. A long black pipe, ordained with gold filigree, was placed on either side- and looped around them were red velvet clothing hangers. From the hangers were outfits starting with different types of large silk dresses (all beautiful and ornate) to tall suits, fashionable and perfectly cut. Some part of your brain murmured that she must look stunning in something other than a dress, and you didn’t really have the heart to disagree- mainly because it was most probably true. 

On the other side of the room, the right, were outfits for different occasions- ranging from a ballgown sort of dress hidden at the very end to a black and red lace satin negligee. You had to swallow quickly when you saw that, wonder making you think if the short thing truly reached her thighs. Averting your eyes to avoid potential embarrassment, you caught sight of a rack against the far wall- another hint to a modern style as it was filled with shoes. Heels, mainly- of different kinds but she seemed to favor stilettos (you weren’t complaining). And there were also leather loafers- you only knew what they were because the castle library held modern magazines, and when you were desperate for a taste of the outside world, you went to flip through them. But on the lower shelves were two rows of boots- leather and suede black thigh highs with tall heels that no doubt left clicking noises in their wake. You felt your cheeks heat up at the sight of them, your mind doing backflips into the gutter as you imagined your Mistress standing above you with all the power she could muster- telling you to lick her boots before pleasuring you. Turns out, it was very easy to get lost in daydreams, because the next thing you heard through your haze was a scoff. 

Angling your head toward Lady Dimitrescu, you swiftly avoided eye contact and looked to the white rug beneath you. Her closet seemed to be the most modern room in the house, you noticed, with two tall full-body mirrors facing each other. You could picture her admiring herself. 

“My graciousness only extends so far darling,” the icy tone was sharp enough to cut, “I’ve let you forego our night cap due to your unfortunate run in with my daughter and have already done the first half of your job for you, but beyond that I will be of no help. Being a handmaiden is your job, now I suggest you get that through your skull before we have an obedience issue, is that understood?” Her voice made you weak in the knees, commanding and irritated as she stood on the other side of the settee- hands on her hips and intense gaze burning into your skin. 

Right. She obviously wasn’t playing around. First day and you were already messing up big time. ‘NOTHING’ Daniel’s tone rang in your head again. ‘NOTHING’. ‘NOTHING’. You didn’t want to be nothing. Not anymore. You wanted to be something- you were forced to be something- and if you wanted to stay alive, you had to be something. There was no choice. _**‘There is no choice.’**_ And so almost like a switch, perhaps because it was ingrained in your psyche by then, the maid mentality was back and forcing you to get to work. To do your job and do it well. To please. To obey. After all, what else was there to do? 

“Yes Mistress, I apologize Mistress. Thank you for kindness. May I help prepare you for bed now?” You obviously weren’t so formal when speaking normally, but because you knew your place in the castle hierarchy (and didn’t really want to be punished), you stuck to intense formalities. It was important. It was considered polite. Kind. Those were the manners of the house.

“Good. And yes- you may,” well she sounded satisfied enough. 

You nodded, looking boldly around the room but skipping over her form. 

“What would you like to wear to bed tonight Mistress? And shall I have your clothing prepared the night before?” 

“One of the negligees in the corner- any one- and no, not unless I ask it.” Good- that was good- you were on good ground. Familiar ground. Impersonal. She sounded bored. 

“Yes Mistress,” came your instinctive reply before you headed over to the clothing rack on your right and began sifting through the soft materials. Silk, satin, velvet, a multitude of rich fabrics passed your fingertips before you settled on a very light orangey-cream colored negligee with lace trim and opaque fabric. You had caught sight of some see-through outfits and decided to ignore them, only pausing for the slightest of moments before remembering your Mistress’s threat. 

Swiftly retrieving the cloth (you had to get on the tips of your toes), you took light steps to the settee where she had discarded the towel. Admittedly, you did want to look up- of course- but it was not polite and it was not proper and it was the exact opposite of respect if you ogled her in broad candlelight. You would not look up, you decided. 

Setting the negligee down on the cushion of the settee, you straightened and cleared your throat, looking around the room for something that held undergarments. Ah- you didn’t know how you missed them, but there were two long white wardrobes on either side of the rack of designer shoes, three drawers in each with black knobs in the middle. You trailed over to them, butterflies returning in full within the confines of your stomach as you stopped in front of the drawers. Simply opening them until you found the right one was rude, right? 

“If it’s no trouble Mistress, to avoid breaching privacy, do you mind telling me which drawer your undergarments are in?” Ugh- so formal. You wanted to roll your eyes but decided against it. She was still very much dangerous despite being devoid of clothing. 

“Mm,” came a quick hum from somewhere behind you, “the wardrobe on your left, middle drawer.” It was swift- to the point- you didn’t really expect anything else, but part of your subconscious was hanging onto her every word like water. 

Your head was nodding as you gently wrapped your fingers around the knob and drew back, swallowing nervously. It was just underwear for Pete’s sake! Underwear, panties, undergarments- you didn’t know what to call them- you didn’t know what term was fit for a Lady! But did it matter? Perhaps not. Then again, perhaps it did. Your thoughts ran wild as carefully folded fabrics of different colors were quickly revealed. It was sort of automatic, and with respect, when your gaze flew from the cloth and looked elsewhere as you reached a hand in and retrieved a random set. It felt so soft in your hands- much better than the cotton you were used to. **_‘What would it feel like to pull them of-’_** You shut the drawer a bit harder than necessary, letting go too quickly so it slid back into place with a well-known thud. A wince ran through your body before you turned on one heel and promptly walked away from the drawers. You’d have to get used to them at some point, you knew that, and the thoughts would have to be kept more and more in check- you also knew that. 

Lady Dimitrescu was waiting. Right. Speed it up- of course! There was no time to waste, since that was no way to treat a Lady. Or your Mistress.

Without much hesitation, surprisingly, you kept your gaze to the floor and fell into a kneeling position before her feet. It didn’t feel silly at all. It felt like you… belonged there? ‘NOTHING’ was screamed in the faintest cavern of your psyche. _**‘No. This is different. This is not nothing.’**_ You were honestly too tired to fight with yourself in the moment and instead, turned back to the task demanded of you. Careful not to brush against dangerously soft skin, you spread the fabric for your Mistress- quiet and quick and as respectful as possible. And you had also just so happened to choose a matching set of panties that went with her negligee- fantastic. There was no sound at all when the Lady of the house adjusted and carefully slid her feet and ankles through the spaces of the cloth. Obviously, that sort of thing had to be practiced. Unless it wasn’t? You didn’t know. That train of thought was quickly discarded as something else came to mind. Your next task. Right. Respectful, gentle, all of the above. Be a good handmaiden. Be a good little mouse. Obey. Don’t run off course. Don’t fawn, don’t swoon, don’t do anything but follow direction. Right. 

So with quick movements, soft and sweet- probably giving away too much of your desire to be careful- you rose from your position and took the fabric with you. Sliding it over the soft skin of her legs, you watched intently with your gaze angled down as the material brushed the backs of her calves and crawled toward the curve of her hips. Stopping would have been rude, of course, so you merely bowed your head as best you could while keeping a semi-strong distance- still watching the cloth mold itself around skin. And then, without missing a beat, your eyes shifted to the side and your fingers slid from the waistband, smooth and simple and done in a way that you didn’t think you’d be able to achieve. She hadn’t moved at all. Not a muscle shift, not a shiver, not a shake- nothing. How on Earth could she stand so still? Perhaps it was a vampiric trait. You cleared your throat, a bit more relieved to find that the ache from earlier had ebbed quite a lot. 

“I hope that was alright Mistress. I- erm,” you paused as you straightened and stepped back, suddenly allowing your hands to fidget in front of you. God you must have looked a fright. But that was nothing in comparison to the thought that filled your head- almost like a train hitting you. How the fuck were you supposed to get the damn negligee over her head? Hell- wasn’t it actually extremely difficult to be a proper handmaiden when the Mistress was over nine feet tall? The thought hadn’t occurred to you before then. 

A rich laugh filled the empty space, making your insides melt. It was so similar to the laugh from that first meeting. 

“I can practically hear your questions little mouse,” she said with a smirk in her voice while bending at the waist to pick up the spread out negligee you had left on the settee. You weren’t looking at her as she dressed. “Your little friend had the same issue. They all do. But you’ll come to find that I can be quite merciful as long as obedience is given at all times,” a pause as the fabric was slipped over her head, “Although I’m sure you’ve come to realize that I’m not all that monstrous.” It wasn’t said in need of pity- it was just- a statement. A fact. People spoke and she knew. There had been a time where you thought she was a monster- at least until that night in the kitchens, beneath the moon. 

“Well I- I didn’t-” you didn’t honestly know what you were going to say, but she could see right through you. Of course she could. 

“They never do,” your Mistress spoke then with finality, turning from the room and going to leave. 

Finally, you looked up- feeling instant relief as the straightening of your neck got rid of the cramp that had developed. Instantly, your gaze found the retreating figure of Lady Dimitrescu- tall and strong and resembling something like iron. She didn’t have to duck beneath the entrance to her closet, so there was no lowering or bending or anything of the sort. It was odd when you found yourself smiling softly at that little detail, jerking your head a bit to the left to rid yourself of the strange feeling of fondness. There was no place for those emotions in a job like that. 

You followed after her, worrying only a bit about the chandelier before the candles all went out as you drew the doors toward each other and closed them. That was certainly a question to ask at a later date. 

Turning to face the expanse of the bedroom, you marveled at your Mistress dressed so- softly. Not a bit of makeup touched her fair skin and the regal hat and heels were gone. She was maybe about only 9’ - 9’1” without the accessories, but it didn’t matter. Her features didn’t hold much exhaustion, or at least that’s what you could see considering you were on the other side of the room, but the sudden tired sigh that left her chest made you frown internally. Was she alright? Was she just tired? Was it stress? Or something else? What- 

“Recite the rules for me little mouse,” came her voice as she trailed over to her vanity, taking a sip of wine from a slim glass. 

“Yes Mistress.” You had prepared- sort of- you were going to get it right. It was just eight stupid little rules. Ok- not stupid, definitely not stupid- but they weren’t that complex. 

Without another moment to spare, she was stalking over to her bed and crawling into it, leaning against the headboard as her long legs disappeared behind the soft cloth and crossed at the ankles. You gulped before walking over, going to stand beside the bed as you spoke. It was nerve-wracking to be in such close quarters all of a sudden, especially when only some hours before, you’d never even crossed your Mistress’s mind. **_‘Stop stalling.’_ ** Ugh. Whatever. 

“Go on,” you weren’t sure you’d ever get tired of hearing that voice. It was simply too beautiful. With dry lips parting, your tongue swiftly ran over the skin before you took a breath to speak. “Look at me.” It cut you off before you could even say a word. 

Inhaling deeply, and secretly collecting all the courage and strength that you could, you forced your head up. Pretty stars stared back at you- intense and piercing and utterly magnificent under the glow of the torches. You very well could have fallen into them if her demand were not still fresh in your mind. 

“R-right,” you breathed steadily before nodding- just to reassure yourself of course. “Rule number one, obey and serve my Mistress at all times,” her nod was barely there but it was enough to keep you going, “rule number two, bathe, clothe, and tend to my Mistress each morning and night. Rule-” 

“Evening.” That’s the only input she includes- but it was enough to make you falter. Evening. Of course. **_‘Get it right.’_** You had no choice anyway. 

“Evening,” you correct yourself with a nod before continuing. “Rule number three, arrive at 5:30 each morning to ready my Mistress. Rule number four, arrive at Midnight to pour my Mistress’s nightcap and help my Mistress settle into bed.” Another small nod was given then, maybe included with the hint of a smirk. You couldn’t really tell- you were too busy staring into the blazing fires of her eyes. They seemed to light up a bit as your lips parted next. “Rule number five, disobedience will not be tolerated. Rule number six, any act or gesture of defiance will be met with punishment.” She hummed in agreement at that. “Rule number seven, refer to the Lady of the House as ‘Mistress’.” Well at least you got that right. “And rule number eight, any breaking of those rules will result in punishment decided by my Mistress.” 

Your staring contest didn’t end there, but she did nod and school her features. Even the previous emotion that was present just sort of- fizzled out. Why was that? You obviously didn’t have an answer. 

“Good, pet.” 

Oh. _**‘Oh.’**_ Oh. Pet? _**‘Pet.’**_ Pet. You were pretty sure she had called you that at another time, maybe earlier that day, but it didn’t matter. Not when there was so much emphasis on the word then. Pet. Pet, pet, pet. All while she stared at you. Pet. You couldn’t find it in you, in that moment, to be mad. You were already a little mouse. You were already lesser. Why not be a pet? Why not be her pet? Why- gah. You just needed rest. Maybe then you’d be able to think more clearly about things such as ‘pet’. After a moment more of staring at you, you couldn’t help but look away. That smirk had come back to her lips- which were stained a bit red from the use of lipstick, though you did like the color- and her eyes were glinting with mischief. She knew what she was doing. But god, her emotions switched like crazy. 

“You’re dismissed, pet.” Like that- it was said so flippantly, as if she hadn’t just taken your work relationship to a whole new level in a matter of minutes. The butterflies in your stomach were crashing into each other. 

“I- yes Mistress.” It was all you could say. Bowing at the waist just a bit, you turned and stalked toward the door while trying your hardest to push your deepest desire away from the front of your mind. Because if you had been honest with her in that moment, you probably would have confessed that you wanted nothing more than to curl up in the bed and fall asleep- protected and safe and something. ‘NOTHING’ came back instead. 

You shut the door behind you with a soft defeat, not bothering to look back and not bothering to think about why she didn’t ask you to put out the torches in her room. 

========================================================================

That night, you dreamt of ivory skin draped in creamy silk while the word ‘nothing’ sounded like a faint bell in the background. 


End file.
